


Pink Skate Guards and Bunk Beds

by vivi1138



Series: Start Over [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Bullying, Fluff and Humor, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, Love at First Sight, M/M, Most of it is very cute and adorable and the angst will not last, POV Alternating, They're smol and cute (not that smol), things get spicier after chapter 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-09-27 07:07:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 42,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9982199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivi1138/pseuds/vivi1138
Summary: During the summer months, it’s not unusual for figure skaters to participate in training camps. In 2009, Yakov Feltsman organizes his own, and convinces his brightest student to join. After all, who would coach Victor in his absence?Unhappy about the arrangement, Russia’s best skater prepares for a summer of boredom with kids who could only hope to reach his level one day.But a shy boy from Japan will soon make him wish this summer would never end.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This story is part 2 of a series and I highly recommend reading the first one, [Tiger Stripes and Smartphones](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9452684/chapters/21385880) , before launching yourself into that one or you will be very confused from the beginning  
> We follow young Victor, 5 years after the events of TSaS. 
> 
> Will there be actual time travel in this story? Not for Victor or Yuuri, and perhaps not for anyone. I left the tag because of part 1. More tags will appear as the story progresses and rating might go up later.  
> \---  
> Disclaimer: not a native speaker

 

Victor Nikiforov earned the title of living legend in his twenties, when his quadruple flip shook the figure skating world and sent him on an endless winning streak for five years. Even at twenty-eight, nearly twenty-nine years old, he was still standing on top as the most decorated athlete in history, beating the two world records his protégés Yuuri Katsuki and Yuri Plisetsky stole from him when he took a year off.

But this is not the story of _this_ Victor.

In another universe, Victor Nikiforov mastered the quadruple flip at sixteen. Living legend? Try _monster_. He was unbeatable. All he wanted was to land the still untamed quadruple axel and be known as a god… because one day, strange voices deep inside him told him only this title was good enough for him.

Following what his heart told him, was one of Victor’s peculiarities. He wasn’t exactly a normal boy. Not just because his hair was silver, or because he had been blessed with otherworldly beauty, kindness and talent, and not because he could skate before he could say his own name properly. Victor was special because ever since April 10th, 2004, it was like a switch had been flipped in his mind. He suddenly took an interest in ballet and followed his lessons rigorously, stunning his coach and his teacher who up until now had struggled to get him to take anything seriously. After all, he always considered his dance training boring. He saw the necessity of it when he woke up from a feverish daze on this strange spring day. It made his skating brilliant. This wasn’t the only change: he started having recurring dreams, of a blurry dancer turning into a skater, and a smaller one sometimes replacing him. He might have imagined something else in his sleep too, yet when he woke up, he never remembered anything but these two silhouettes. There was more: since that day, he was filled with emotions he couldn’t explain. Like longing, for someone he never met, and of course, love. Victor knew what love felt like before this happened, and he recognized the signs when they appeared, yet… he wasn’t in love with anyone. It was like he fell for someone he had never seen and never heard of, which meant he never looked at potential love interests and didn’t consider romance or even the slightest hook-up. It made his daily life easier since he just acted like he was already taken, but in the dead of the night, when he was alone with his thoughts, it hurt. He missed someone who didn’t exist.

As for the voices… they quieted down quickly, however at first, it was like his brain was constantly hooked to a radio station broadcasting the same three voices as they lived their day-to-day lives. He thought he might be schizophrenic. When he asked his father, the man simply nodded, told him not to worry, that they would go away. And they did, after only a week.

He convinced himself that he suffered from some kind of memory loss and as time passed, he channeled his emotions into his skating.

He went from an incredible skater to a breathtaking creature ruling over the world. There was no one like him and many of his competitors, sponsors, enemies and admirers said there would never be another. If Victor participated in a competition, there was no chance for anyone else to win a gold medal. It had been that way for the past four years.

Now, Victor was twenty-one years old, and he was enjoying a quiet day in the short time-frame between the end of the last skating season and the start of the new one. His long silver hair tied in a messy bun, a low cut top on his back and a pair of sweatpants covering his legs, he was listening to a quiet piano compilation while his dog Makkachin snored softly on the carpet. He wondered if he should read a book, perhaps watch a movie, so he would do something more productive than stare at the ceiling all day. He couldn’t help it if daydreaming relaxed him so much he often lost track of time. He knew it was past midday already. From his spot on the couch, multiple pillows supporting his back, he could see how deep the color of the sky looked today, a dark blue announcing many beautiful summer days. There was a ray of sunlight falling just on his bare feet, highlighting the bruises and bloody scrapes. Figure skating came at a price. On his days off, he liked to laze around and let his wounded skin breathe. The cuts healed faster that way.

His gaze left the wide window to observe the white walls of the living room. He needed to decorate them. He moved out of his parents house at the end of the Worlds Championship (in which he won gold, as he always did) and still hadn’t gotten around to make his apartment feel like home. He would, eventually, when he was tired of resting.

There was a pile of empty boxes near the TV. He swore he’d put them away soon. Next to the boxes was his sports bag, a small gap in its zipper showing the sparkly, bright pink skate guards protecting the golden blades that brought him so many victories. Perhaps it was silly to keep them; his coach always told him he should swap them for a more discrete shade, but Victor liked them. He bought them when he was fifteen and used them ever since. The sparkles still glimmered perfectly, even though the rest of the plastic was worn out.

Now his eyes went back to the window, and Victor wondered what he should make for lunch. Something light? Or he could have a cheat day. His metabolism allowed him many of those. The only reason he didn’t eat everything he wanted every single day was the impact his favourite food had on his energy.

He knew what he had in the fridge and freezer - too much chicken, too much milk, too many eggs. There was the cupboard, with its less healthy sauces and snacks. He could make a stir fry, or he could go all out and make a nice, juicy meat pie. His stomach growled in approval. But before he could leave his beloved couch (which he might one day fuse with), his phone rang. He groaned and picked up when he saw the name on the screen.

“Hi Yakov!” he said with the singing tone he always used in private, and his coach didn’t greet him back. Victor had a reputation to protect and the world believed he was an unreachable, serious, if not slightly haughty sex symbol who dated female models and actresses, while he was in reality a dorky and childish boy dreaming of a prince charming. Yakov believed it would be best if no one knew how he acted in his day to day life.

“Vitya,” the older man started, and Victor could picture him pressing the bridge of his nose between his fingers, “do you remember what you agreed to do before Worlds?”

It was well-known among his peers that he was an airhead and forgot everything. Proudly, he exclaimed he didn’t know what Yakov was talking about.

“ _If I get drunk and do something stupid after the Worlds banquet I’ll do everything you want_. Your words, not mine.”

A cold shiver ran down his spine.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Don’t argue with me. So, what was it you did after the banquet, again?”

He groaned as the memories of his dip in a fountain, gloriously naked, came back to haunt him. Thankfully, only a handful of people, all of them skaters or coaches (and one poor, unsuspecting ISU official) witnessed his shameless, drunken dance before Yakov pulled him out of the water and dragged him to his hotel room.

“You know exactly what you did,” his coach continued, “and you will make it up to me. Tomorrow morning, I’m picking you up at 5. Take your skating gear and comfortable clothes - do NOT take your Armani suit or your sixteen pairs of sunglasses.”

The cold shiver was replaced by dread, a feeling of impending doom pressing down on Victor’s shoulders. He understood. He knew exactly where Yakov meant to bring him, and it froze him on the spot.

“The summer training camp. You’re… no. Why?!” he whined in horror. He was too old to participate and in any case, it was targeted towards novices and juniors, not seniors, especially not if they competed internationally - and won.

“First of all, because it will teach you patience. This is the longest camp I ever organized, and I thank your father for helping with the legal implications of opening it internationally for the second year in a row, not that you would care, just know he’s behind this too. It lasts four weeks. You can’t spend a month training on your own, no matter how much you’d like to.”

“So what, I’m just going there to train for next season?” It didn’t sound too bad. He wondered if there was a hotel close-by.

“You’ll be training, yes, but more than that. You’ll be teaching.”

He felt his heart drop in his belly.

“But I’m- I’m not a coach!”

“Are you saying you are unable to offer advice when a nine-year-old falls on a single toe loop?”

“Of course not,” he replied, gritting his teeth.

“Good. I already have a sleeping bag for you. You can take Makkachin.”

It was only when Yakov hung up that Victor realized he had said the words “sleeping bag”.

He pinched his arm. Sadly, it wasn’t a nightmare, and he could only groan in despair while browsing the camp’s website.

 

 

**FELTSMAN’S FIGURE SKATING TRAINING CAMP**

_An international summer camp to turn skaters into prodigies_

 

[Information]

[News]

[Registration]

[Rules]

[Contact]

[Facilities]

>Participants will be staying in gender-separate dorms. Fully equipped with shower rooms, cafeteria and relaxation area. The gym, pool, ballet studio and rink are within walking distance (<1km). Catering service, medical staff and specialized massage therapist on site.

>The site is located 2km away from [village]. Emergency services available.

[The Team]

[Visa Information for International Skaters]

[Terms and Conditions]

 

 

 _Well, at least I know where that is,_ he thought, remembering his first and only training camp as a junior. It had taken place there too, in a sports complex called The Cube, but only lasted a week. It was the longest week of Victor’s life. A month would be absolute hell. Perhaps he should smuggle a few bottles of vodka to soothe his soul.


	2. Chapter 2

Clutching a worn out letter between his fingers, Yuuri Katsuki, seventeen years old, looked at the sign in cyrillic next to the spot where his bus left him. By now, he knew what the letter said word for word, and even after three emails and two calls to the Japanese Skating Federation, he still didn’t believe any of this was real. He thought someone was pranking him. Why would anyone invite  _ him _ , a dime-a-dozen junior skater, to the longest and most famous skating summer camp in the world? Why would anyone pay the outrageous fees to give him a chance to train under Yakov Feltsman for four weeks? Yuuri’s biggest achievement was a bronze medal at Nationals. Unlike most of his competitors in his own country, he didn’t start skating as a child except to have some fun on the weekends, instead he practiced ballet diligently. Until Victor. When he was twelve, Yuuri witnessed the birth of the skating monster who took the world by storm. He watched him break a world record at only sixteen and since then, he had never been able to get him out of his mind. He was one of his biggest fans, and while he dreamt of skating against him one day, he didn’t think it would ever happen.

So why was he standing there, alone, in a postcard-like Russian village, waiting for someone to pick him up and fighting the jet lag? He couldn’t understand. After reaching out to his fellow competitors, he found out no one else had been invited, and it made no sense. Surely the gold or silver medalist at the latest Nationals deserved this more than him. 

Yuuri’s parents would never have been able to afford this camp. They already spent so much for him. Skating was an expensive sport, and their business wasn’t working so well, so this mysterious benefactor was a godsend. Despite how scared he was that someone would laugh at him and tell him to go back to Japan, he felt immensely grateful for the opportunity. Rationally, it couldn’t be a joke, the JSF wouldn’t let it happen.

A white van stopped in front of him. The driver rolled down the window - it was a blond woman who seemed to be in her mid-thirties, her beauty rather stereotypical - the kind that would be on the homepage of a Slavic dating website, or on a poster in a tourism office. She also looked vaguely familiar, though Yuuri had never set foot outside of Japan and would definitely remember if he had met her. Perhaps he did actually catch a glimpse of her in a magazine about Russia. He had a few of those, because he wanted to know everything he could about his idol and where he came from.

“Katsuki, right? I’m your ride,” the woman said, her English heavily accented.

Yuuri struggled to drag his heavy luggage inside the van. Once he was seated, he took long, deep breaths to calm down. The reality of his situation was starting to dawn on him. He thanked the woman, who looked at him with a raised eyebrow before turning her attention back to the road and driving down the main street lined up with adorable houses and shops.

“You can call me Eva,” she said. “This is a touristic village because the sports center gets many events all year long. Not all of Russia is like that. You should visit St.Petersburg one day.”

“I- I- Yes, I always wanted to go there,” he quietly replied.

The next ten minutes happened in a blur. The Japanese tried not to fall asleep and was about to close his eyes when the van stopped in front of a large sign. The Cube. He stepped out of the vehicle, dragging his luggage with him, and stared. 

Surrounded by trees and freshly cut grass, the Cube was… a cube. A modern building with wide glass doors, walls painted with sponsors, sports federations and famous clubs logos. He noticed the ISU and RSF logos just below the circles of the Olympics.

“This is the main building,” Eva explained, walking towards the door. She was tall and elegantly dressed, Yuuri noted, following her and feeling rather ashamed of his own disheveled look. It couldn’t be helped though, not after hours and hours in a plane and in a crappy shuttle bus. 

The reception was manned by a plump, brown-haired woman who reminded Yuuri of his own mother. A little girl with bright red hair was sitting on the counter-top.

“Mila Babicheva,” Eva said, gesturing towards the kid. “She’s a novice. This is her mother, Irina. She doesn’t speak English, but she knows everything. No sneaking out after sundown. She can tell.”

She added something in Russian and Irina grinned. Mila waved at Yuuri who smiled at her, before Eva asked him to hurry up.

She showed him the cafeteria, explaining everything about the breakfast buffet, the kind of food he could expect, where to find the weekly menu and at what time he was supposed to be there. Next were the infirmary and physical therapy rooms, then a cosy lounge with a library, a few computers and bean bags. She pointed at the doors down the hallway. Coaches, guests and general staff dorms. It was conveniently located so nobody could host a party in the lounge without alerting them. 

“Your dorm is downstairs, you are separated by gender but not by age, so we expect the older ones to act responsibly.” Seeing his worried expression, she added: “The youngest go home for the weekend, they’re all Russian.” 

The age range for the camp was 8 to 18. Yuuri hoped no child would start crying at night, but he guessed the staff knew what they were doing and probably had people on site who could handle such situations. Eva checked her watch and frowned, then handed a stack of papers and a map to the skater.

“I assume you already know the basic rules if you visited the website and read what we sent you. These are more specific, day-to-day rules and information. Go to the dorm, find a bed. As you just arrived, your afternoon is free. Take your time to familiarize yourself with the place. Everyone will be there around dinner time.”

“Am I the first one here?”

“Most of the girls are already here, I think we’re just missing the Italian skater. For the boys, a few of them arrived yesterday evening. I have to pick up a group from the bus stop in one hour.”

After she left, Yuuri looked around until he found the stairs. He nearly tripped, his luggage was so heavy it was torture to carry it, but he managed to survive and found himself in a well-lit corridor with signs in English and Russian indicating where to find the bathrooms and dorms. Two minutes later, he pushed the door to the boys area, finding twenty military beds lined up in a rather sinister room. The only windows were at the very top of the naked brick wall, because the rest of the place was underground. Each bed had a tag, some of them with a name, the others empty. Yuuri was delighted to find one in a corner near the door. As a shy teenager, he preferred it if he wasn’t surrounded by everyone else. He wrote his name on the tag and opened his suitcase.

Soon, his sleeping bag was rolled out on the thin mattress and he put his valuables in the locker assigned to him. He took a look at the papers given by Eva.

 

_ Food&Drinks _

_ Alcohol prohibited at all times _

_ No food or drinks in the dorms and lounge. Water bottles permitted. Healthy snacks available in the cafeteria. _

_ Soda and unhealthy snacks are not available and can only be bought at the village with the participant’s own money.  _

 

_ Technology _

_ No mobile phone, tablet, portable gaming device, or personal computer allowed. They will be confiscated and returned to you at the end of your stay  _

_ Internet usage restricted: mandatory registration for the use of public computers _

_ Public phone available. International calls permitted. Duration restricted _

 

_ Curfew&Security _

_ No noise will be tolerated past 8.30pm in the dorms. We ask that older participants leave the dorms if they do not plan to sleep so the younger ones can rest. Lights out for every participant at 11pm. _

_ No loud music in the common area. You will be asked to keep the volume at a reasonable level immediately. Please ask a member of staff if you wish to organize an event that might prevent the younger skaters from resting early. _

_ Security staff is on site 24/7 but is not responsible for stolen valuables that were not in your locker. _

 

_ Village visits _

_ Any participant visiting the village needs to ask a member of staff and enter their name on the list available at the reception.  _

_ Participants 16+ are allowed to visit the village by themselves. Curfew: 9pm _

_ Participants 13-16 years old are allowed to visit the village with 18 years old participants or a member of staff. Curfew: 7pm _

_ Younger participants are required to have a member of staff with them at all times. Curfew: 4pm _

 

_ Facilities _

_ It is forbidden to enter the rink, gym or pool unsupervised. _

_ Shower rooms open from 4am to 10pm. _

 

_ Privacy _

_ No unauthorized recording of other participants, coaches, staff or guests will be tolerated, at any point, in any situation. Ask for permission. _

_ If a participant or guest is found to be copying another participant’s or guest’s routine in a competition, there will be severe consequences and the participant or guest will be reported to the ISU. This, as well as revealing confidential or private matters to the public, the press, or any individual outside this camp, is a breach of NDA and privacy and will be dealt with accordingly. For more information, please consult our Terms and Conditions as well as your contract, or speak to a member of staff. _

 

_ Important note: _

_ We take bullying extremely seriously. Reach out to a member of staff immediately if you witness or are a victim of harassment.  _

_ Anyone found guilty of immoral or aggressive conduct will be asked to leave and no refund will be provided _

 

_ This training camp is not only a place to improve, it’s a place to forge lasting friendships. _

 

Yuuri’s eyes were once again closing against his will by the time he finished reading, so he decided to take a shower and a nap. A tiny hope was growing in his chest after seeing the word “guest” so many times, but he tried to silence it. Victor never appeared in any camp before, unlike other famous skaters, and the fact that this was his coach’s camp and was in Russia shouldn’t be a good reason for him to visit… right? 

The shower room was warm, the white tiles spotless. Yuuri left his dirty and clean clothes in the area near the dryers, hiding his glasses under the pile, and made his way to the showers. Thanks to his upbringing in a hot springs, he didn’t mind washing up with strangers, but no one was there right now. The skaters who already arrived were probably training. He squinted to check how the shower worked and sighed when hot water trickled down his skin. 

Now, he could finally relax. It was all true. Nobody lied to him. Excitement made his heartbeat speed up and he smiled, rinsing his hair. Something was missing though, and he groaned when he realized he had no shampoo or soap. But his timing was perfect, because he heard the door opening and closing.

“Ah, excuse me, would you happen to have shampoo? I forgot mine in the dorm,” he asked, and someone chuckled.

“Sure, I’ll be there in a second.”

Careful not to slip, he tiptoed to the edge of the main stall, until a blurry pair of hands held two bottles in front of him.

“Thank you so much! I won’t be long.” He went back under the water, conscious that the other boy was now standing under the shower right next to his - more convenient, he thought, given that they now shared products.

The soap smelled amazing. Like cotton candy. He certainly wasn’t expecting that from another male skater. Not that it bothered him, but he was just used to more neutral scents. The shampoo was more fruity but he couldn’t identify what it was. He liked it though.

“Did you just get here?” the other boy asked, and Yuuri hummed in response, eyes closed, massaging his scalp. “Sweet, me too! What’s your name?”

He blinked the water away from his eyes and stretched his back. He might be used to public baths, but not to having full conversations with random people while he stood there stark naked. He could feel the blush on his cheeks.

“I’m Yuuri. I’m from Japan.”

His vision still blurry, he kept his gaze fixed on the wall to respect the other’s privacy.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Russian. Name’s Victor.”

_ W-What? _

Now he saw it. The silver hair falling down to his waist. His vision might be bad but he wasn’t blind. How did he manage not to look at his face until now? How could he not recognize his voice? 

“Yuuri? You’re pale, are you alright?”

_ Oh, right, he’s talking to me. Victor is talking. To me.  _

“I-I-why? Why are you-?”

“Oh so you do know who I am!” his amused tone did nothing to reassure Yuuri. “It’s a family thing. Yakov is my coach, then there is my dad in the background, and my mom is driving everyone around- you probably met her, tall, blond, wears a brown Prada coat?”

Yuuri gasped. Eva? He spoke with Victor’s  _ mother _ ? The only answer he managed to give sounded like a squeak and it made Victor laugh. A wonderful sound. One that reminded him that they were both naked and less than a meter away from each other. He used Victor’s shampoo!

“Well now you look like a lobster, is the water too hot?”

“N-no I-yes it is. Yes. I’ll go now. Thanks for the shampoo.”

“Mh. Yuuri?”

He looked at his face, cursing his sight and then he felt the Russian’s fingers on his jaw and thanked every god he could think of for allowing him this privilege.

“You’re beautiful, Yuuri. I can’t wait to see what you can do.”

The walk back to his dorm happened in a daze. He didn’t remember getting dressed or drying his hair. He fell on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Surely, this was all an hallucination, born from exhaustion. There was no way he just talked with his idol in the shower. There was no way Victor would call him, ordinary Yuuri, _beautiful_. Right?  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had their meeting all planned for later and then this happened. Thanks brain.  
> \----  
> The Cube is obviously fictional. The dorms are inspired by the latest sports camp I participated in. Military beds are very noisy because of the metallic frame and the mattress and bedding smell NASTY. Victor's dorm is much nicer but you'll see that later :P


	3. Chapter 3

After Yuuri left the room, Victor stared at the door for a long time, enough for the shower to automatically stop running. He had to use another shower head to rinse the cranberry scented conditioner out of his hair, and he turned the heat off. 

He didn’t think anyone would be there. He wasn’t supposed to use these showers, but the ones upstairs were being cleaned up and he felt gross after the long drive with Yakov. Now, he thanked himself for his impatience.

When he saw Yuuri, the first thing he noticed was the color of his eyes. They seemed to swallow him whole. Then he paid attention to his face, his cute nose and his smile, and as strange as it seemed, his eyes didn’t wander anywhere else. There was something about him that drew him in instantly, and now that he was gone, Victor felt empty. It was such a strong and foreign feeling that he believed only freezing cold water could get his brain working again.

He realized now that he made a fool of himself. He had boldly told a perfect stranger, emphasis on perfect, that he was beautiful. A skater who couldn’t be older than eighteen since he was part of the camp.

_ I’m the biggest idiot in the world _ , he thought while he dried his hair a few minutes later. It was still slightly wet so he let it loose. If he took too long, he would run into more people and he wasn’t in the mood for autographs.

Walking past the dorms, he hesitated, and resisted the urge to enter and take a look at Yuuri - if he was even there. He hurried upstairs, passed by the lounge and entered the guest dorm.

It was much nicer than the one downstairs and he was grateful to Yakov for giving him this room. To top it all off, he would have it all to himself most of the time, because guests didn’t stay for more than a few days at a time.

The walls, floor, wardrobe and beds were all made of pine wood. The lockers were hidden inside the wardrobe to keep the room as elegant as possible. There was a bunk bed near the door, and eight more mattresses were all in one giant, meter high bed frame. The thing Victor liked most was the window on the ceiling. It came with remote controlled blinds, but it would be nice to lay down and just watch the stars at night.

Sighing, he sat on the mattress furthest from the door, where he could have his own little corner. He rested his back against the wall. 

Yuuri. He liked how the name rolled on his tongue. It should annoy him that he couldn’t get him out of his head, but instead it made him feel warm and comfortable. He wanted to know more about him. Grabbing the folder Yakov gave him in the car, he opened it for the first time. It contained copies of every skater’s profile, which included their strengths and weaknesses, and what they intended to work on. A few of them didn’t even have a coach. Yakov and the team of Russian coaches would definitely bring them to a higher level.

The files were organized by name, and as soon as Victor found Yuuri’s, he was surprised to see that he had been invited. He wasn’t aware that invitations even existed for this camp.

He would be eighteen in a few months, he noticed, feeling a bit better about the shower episode now. He wondered why he was still in the junior division, and why he only competed in Japan. He won several gold medals in regional competitions, and went from gold, to silver, to bronze, in Nationals. He didn’t have a certified coach; instead, he was trained by Minako Okukawa, a famous, retired ballet dancer. Victor knew this name: he met her once, when she visited Lilia Baranovskaya’s studio in St.Petersburg while Victor was pouting at the barre, before ballet started to interest him. Yuuri’s experience as a dancer was highlighted on the sheet.

His strengths, if he believed the profile, were step sequences and artistry. His weaknesses? Technical elements. Without proper coaching, this couldn’t be helped. He was apparently unable to consistently land anything else than double jumps, with the exception of the triple axel, toe loop and salchow. When his eyes fell on the note added by Yakov, he smirked:

 

Invited by Yulian Nikiforov

 

_ Thanks, dad. _ It didn’t explain why, though, and Victor would talk to him as soon as he visited the camp, which he intended to do at the end of the first week. In the meantime, he would observe, and attempt to get to know him. If Yuuri wanted to, he would teach him jumps. He would teach him everything he knew. It didn’t matter what Yakov said, if he told him to keep an eye on the other skaters. His priority would be Yuuri.

He knew it was an impulsive decision but it matched the mysterious emotions boiling right under his skin. It was actually difficult to stay still. If only he was a participant and not a guest.

The peace and quiet didn’t last. Soon, echoes of footsteps, giggles and overly excited voices disturbed Victor’s solitude. He didn’t know when he was supposed to reveal his presence. Yakov told him to avoid mingling with everyone as much as possible outside the rink for the first few days, and if Victor hadn’t met Yuuri, he would be glad to stay away in his dorm, but things were different now.

Just because of one shower, and one glance at those big, shiny reddish-brown eyes. 

It was 6pm when he thought now was his best chance to see him again. According to the planning (and the obvious noise nearby), dinner was about to be served, but not before a series of announcements and a general presentation of the camp and staff. He put on his Russian Olympic Team tracksuit and pinned his hair up. Perhaps he should dress more elegantly… not that he brought anything fancy. Would Yuuri like the tracksuit? What if Yuuri hated him? What if he wasn’t even attracted to men? He discarded these thoughts. He didn’t need negativity, not when he would see this angel again in just a few minutes.

When he left the dorm, he heard his mother welcoming everyone, her voice strong enough to carry in the entire common area. He stayed outside the cafeteria while she presented every staff member, both in Russian and English. She then asked if anyone had questions, and a tiny voice wondered aloud who the guests would be this year. Victor took it as a sign, and walked through the doors, waving.

“Hi! I’m Victor Nikiforov and I’m one of the guests!”

“Vitya...”

Yakov’s facepalm was easy to ignore; the room was in chaos. Hysterical screams made it hard to keep his fake smile on, but thankfully Yakov and Eva were both scary enough that asking for silence had an immediate effect. 

“Aah I’m sorry,” Victor added, not sorry at all, “did I interrupt something? I was too excited to stay in my room.”

He found Yuuri, who was blushing furiously and kept stealing glances at him. He caught one of them, and for a second, his fake smile dissolved into a truly happy grin. Yuuri seemed to combust on his chair.

Satisfied - no, more like utterly  _ charmed _ ,  he leaned against the wall near one of the instructors. Time to observe.

Yuuri was one of the oldest participants. He listened to the next part of the presentation in a way that made Victor think he must be very good at school, or that he tried his best to ignore Victor. 

“I’ll pee on your shoes.”

Victor blinked and looked down, finding a very small, very pouty Russian child glaring at him.

“Err, what?”

“You’re blocking the door. So I’ll pee on your shoes.”

He stepped away but the kid didn’t move.

“Come on, you can go now,” Victor whispered, trying not to attract attention but obviously, everyone was already watching.

“I don’t know where it is. You come with me or I’ll pee on your shoes.”

“Can you stop saying that?” He looked for an approval and his mother just nodded, so he sighed and took the child’s hand in his. It was sticky. Probably on purpose. He shuddered, and left the cafeteria with him. What did he get himself into? He knew his mother would tell her husband and they would share this story each time they had dinner together. How the great Victor Nikiforov found himself accompanying a nine-year-old to the bathroom and how lost and scared it made him feel for a few seconds.

“Wash your hands,” he told the kid after he exited the stall. The child stuck out his pink tongue but obeyed, and just before they entered the cafeteria again, he kicked Victor’s shin and told him he would crush all of his world records one day.

All Victor could do was watch him leave, speechless.

 

 

*

 

 

By a cruel twist of fate, the kid’s name was Yuri. Victor now had two Yuris in mind, though for very different reasons, and he only thought of the small one because his mother had gleefully announced that he was training in ballet with Lilia and would be coached by Yakov as soon as he joined the junior division. So, Victor would have a grumpy little ball of nope challenging him every day. 

The news was not enough to weigh on his shoulders and prevent him from dreaming. As usual, he saw the blurry dancer and when he woke up, he wondered if he hadn’t been slightly easier to distinguish this time.

His day started in a similar way to his usual routine. At 6.30, he was at the cafeteria, choosing his breakfast carefully as the workers just finished setting up the buffet. At 6.50, when some of the kids started to wobble through the doors, sleepy, most of them still in their pajama, he left and went for a jog.

The area around the Cube was perfect for a morning run with Makkachin. He liked it when he was a participant, and he liked it now. The grass was wet with dew, fog swirled in the sunlight and for the first time in years, there was no desperate, inexplicable longing in his heart. 

A small bird flew past his shoulder, and Victor stopped running as realization struck. This odd feeling, this warmth… he found what he was looking for, who he was in love with. It still didn’t make any sense because he never met Yuuri before, and if he did meet him at sixteen, there was no way he would have fallen for a twelve-year-old. But being in love with an non-existent being was just as silly. 

His emotions formed a puzzle, and Yuuri was the last missing piece, found nowhere else, that mysteriously fit in the spot Victor had guarded so well, not allowing anyone to get close previously.

Disturbed but rather happy about his revelation, he took a small path in the nearby forest and followed it back to the Cube. He stopped by the pool. Swimming all by himself was perfect. He relaxed in the hot tub after asking a staff member to turn it on, then finally made his way to the ice rink. Yakov would be furious if he wasn’t on the ice before 9.

At 9.01, he stepped out of the locker room, and saw his coach busy helping a promising thirteen-year-old girl tighten her spins. Too busy to notice that he wasn’t where he should be, one minute past the hour. Victor sat on a bench, high up, so he could see the kids practice. It didn’t take long for him to spot Yuuri, almost as if he had a built-in radar just for him. The teenager wasn’t on the ice yet, he was lacing his skates. A group of teens sat nearby, sharing tea from a thermos. Victor was about to walk up to them and congratulate them for becoming friends so quickly, when Yuuri’s expression stopped him. He kept his head down. Bullies? Already? Victor knew better than anyone else than despite the warnings and punishments outlined in the rule-book, bullies would always find victims and silence them.

Victor moved closer, rage building up in his body. He was glad he didn’t have his skates on yet: his shoes were discrete enough and the group didn’t hear him. He wanted to know exactly what was happening, just in case he was wrong. It turned out he wasn’t, but not for the reason he initially imagined:

“Nikiforov is overrated.”

"He's paying the judges. I heard he also screwed an ISU official."

“Yeah, seriously, you like that loser?” 

“Oi, Katsuki, we’re talking to you!”

Yuuri ignored them, until the tallest of the group stole his gloves and started laughing. From where he was standing, Victor recognized them as official products sold by his fan club. He owned a pair too, even though he never used it. They were good skating gloves, _V.Nikiforov_ elegantly stitched in silver on the side. Briefly, bliss fluttered in his chest, but his jaw tensed at the unfair treatment Yuuri was receiving, just because he was a fan. He prepared to interfere. And then, Yuuri grabbed the gloves and put them on, offering the boys a deadly, icy smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “who are you again?”

One of them, whose body was more adapted to hockey than figure skating, told him his name, and cackled. The tallest introduced himself, voice dripping with sarcasm, and the others followed.

“Ah, that’s why I didn’t know you guys. You’re not good enough to be famous.”

Victor beamed. He wanted to cheer for Yuuri. He also wanted to stop this, but it was too good. Insults and outraged gasps followed, and the only reason no one paid attention to it was that Yakov turned the warm-up music on.

“Did I offend you? My apologies. My English isn’t the best. You know, I really admire Victor, but I’ll watch you. If you think he’s overrated, your skating will blow my mind!”

The Russian swooned. Beautiful Yuuri, defending him so eagerly! He was so different from the shy, flustered cutie from the shower room and cafeteria! It was time to step in though, because the should-be-hockey-player just took a position Victor knew would lead to violence. He ran to Yuuri’s side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Yuuri stiffened.

“Hi!” he exclaimed, his smile wide and just as cold as Yuuri’s. “I have a great idea! Yuuri’s right, you know? I’m going to watch you too. You guys should learn one of my programs, what do you think?”  

Initially, Yuuri looked intimidated and lost, until his eyes, hidden behind blue-framed glasses, met Victor’s. There was determination in his gaze, but also a hint of amusement.

“Ah but don’t worry, it’ll be an old one, from when I was in the junior division. Since you’re better than I was, it won’t be a problem and it'll even teach me stuff, since you're all so good. Yakov!”

Looking thoroughly annoyed, his coach walked up to him. He couldn’t yell at him here in front of the young skaters, but he sure would later on. The man knew how to interpret his student’s expressions, and there was no doubt he understood that the situation he just walked on wasn’t friendly mingling. He would surely keep an eye on these guys, and Victor would remind him to do it. 

“I want to organize a contest. Every male junior skater aged fourteen or older learns one of my short programs, or part of a free skate, and presents it in three days. They’ll train under supervision, but with no advice on our part. The winner gets a private session with the guest or coach of their choice for an entire day.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea. Check with Eva for the judges panel and get everything ready by lunch time. Make sure every program has the same difficulty and if they don’t, modify them so it’ll be fair. Use your exhibition skates if you don’t have enough.”

Yakov then joined the other instructors, and the bullies ran to the ice, furious. 

“Ah, you- you can let go,” Yuuri whispered.

Victor didn’t want to, but he also wished for Yuuri’s comfort. He regretfully stepped aside.  


“Are you okay?”

Yuuri’s smile, this time, was bright and sincere as he nodded. There was a confidence in him that Victor didn't expect to witness. Did that argument drag him out of his timid shell? He liked it. He also liked the shy Yuuri. He liked everything about him.  


“If I win the contest, can I choose you?”

_ Aah, you’re killing me. _

“I’d be devastated if you didn’t! You’re my knight in shining armor, defending my honor!”

The Japanese laughed and blushed, and all was right in the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yurio you nasty little squirt. You were supposed to be introduced later. These characters are taking control again!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I switch names from Yuri to Yurio halfway through this chapter, I hope it won’t be too confusing with both Yuris during the first part. I just didn't want to call him that way until Yuuri does. 
> 
> I added a bullying tag. As much as I want this to be free of angst, it can't be completely fluffy either. It will happen the next chapter, or the one after. But I'm a sucker for poetic justice, so that will happen too :P

The past two days had been hectic and Yuuri was exhausted. After standing up to the idiots who thought he wouldn’t say anything if Victor was insulted, the Japanese had to fight his own thoughts as his excitement threatened to destroy his practice time. Victor’s intervention wasn’t a coincidence; he was protecting Yuuri. And Yuuri, who usually lacked confidence in himself, welcomed the contest, convinced he would do well. Private training with his idol? He  _ had _ to win.

They had been assigned one program each, with their respective detailed description and music, as well as a video to study. Just as Yakov asked, the routines had been modified, and as such the video would only be a guide, but shouldn’t be entirely copied. Contestants were allowed to change elements if they wished, as long as they kept the jumps exactly as they were on the description, but it would put their performance under an even tighter scrutiny, because they had to do a better job than Victor, or they would lose points for not following instructions. If they succeeded, they would have to explain why and how they came to the conclusion that their modification was a good idea. Yuuri believed the bullies would definitely try to “improve” everything, just to make a point and insult Victor. As for himself… he wasn’t sure. 

Yuuri was given his favourite program, the one that gave Victor his first world record, the one that made him discover his passion for skating, and for the man himself. He couldn’t be happier. He practiced it so much at home! He did downgrade the jumps he couldn’t do, but he used this particular routine as a base to track his progress, upping the difficulty as his abilities grew. There was no program he knew better than this one. 

Still, he practiced endlessly. There wasn’t much that could be improved on, if he wanted to go down that road, but perhaps something in the step sequence… At the time, it had been Victor’s weakness, if you could call it a weakness when it broke a record, and there was no doubt he would do it completely differently after he became serious about his ballet training. Yuuri would never forget how delighted he had been when he found out the Russian skater had suddenly taken an interest in Yuuri’s other favourite sport.

Changing elements was a risky move and had to be done perfectly so it didn’t make Victor cringe. He didn’t want to be placed in the same basket as the bullies.

Anyone who knew Yuuri - his only friends, Takeshi and Yuuko, or his family, or his ballet teacher - would be speechless if they saw how sure of himself he acted. This assurance elevated his skating and more than once during practice, he noticed Yakov Feltsman watching him. He always flubbed a jump or two after that, but he didn’t let it affect his mood.

Bullies aside, he was happy to be here. Until the boy in the bed next to him started snoring.

Yuuri was a heavy sleeper, but he couldn’t fall asleep with noise around him. His earplugs couldn’t block the irregular, horrifying chainsaw motor in the other bed. There was no chance he could drift to sleep, and poking the kid to have him turn around only made it worse. Without his phone, Yuuri didn’t know what time it was, but he could swear he had been laying there wide awake for at least four hours. He couldn’t take it anymore. He knew exactly where to go. 

Slipping out of bed and putting on a pair of socks and his glasses, he wore his sleeping bag like a cape and walked out of the dorm. The light turned on automatically in the grey corridor, and Yuuri chose to stop by the bathroom first. He left his sleeping bag on the metallic chair near the showers, and came face to face with another skater.

A kid, who watched him like a deer in headlights, frozen still, naked from the waist down and visibly upset. He was washing something in the sink. Yuuri squinted. Pajama pants.  _ Oh. _

“Um, are you okay?” he murmured in English.

The kid scowled, turned his face away, and started scrubbing the pants.

“Okay, um, what’s your name?”

_ I should have learned Russian,  _ he thought. But to his surprise, the child seemed to understand him.

“I am Yuri,” he said, pausing at each word, his voice trembling.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name is Yuuri too. I’ll go to the dorm and find pants for you.”

A nod answered him. It was obvious that Yuri would soon start crying, his lips were tight and he was shaking. As quietly as he could, he rushed back to the dorm, and used the small flashlight each of the participants was given, to find Yuri’s empty bed. He managed not to wake anyone when he dragged the luggage from under the bed. Finding a clean pair of leggings and a towel, he smiled, and ran to the bathroom. 

The showers were closed, so he found Yuri cleaning himself up and flooding the tiles because he cupped the water in his hands from the sink repeatedly. He gave him the towel, then helped him stay up to put on the leggings. He chose not to talk about the elephant in the room. At his age, Yuri was probably so humiliated he would remember this for the rest of his life. Instead, he took the kid’s hand, and told him he couldn’t sleep because of the snoring - at that, Yuri snorted and said he should have peed on his bed instead. They went upstairs, and once in the lounge, Yuuri placed his sleeping bag on a wide grey couch and crawled under it after unzipping it to make it wider. Little Yuri joined him, and was asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.

Exhaustion took its toll on the Japanese, and when he woke up, he barely repressed a scream. Victor was right there, stretching, his hair glowing in the early morning light. What a sight to wake up to. He managed to stay calm, hoping the tiny bundle of heat in his arms could sleep a bit longer.

“Don’t mind me,” Victor murmured. “Go back to sleep. It’s only 5.30.”

“I need to tell someone to change the mattress before the others wake up, and get his pajama to the laundry” he replied, as quietly as possible.

“Great, you told me! I’ll ask someone. If anyone sees anything, our story is that he spilled his water bottle.”

He nodded. Little Yuri would appreciate it.

“Ah, also, the showers here are open, you can use them. It’s probably better. I’ll leave some soap in there.”

Yuuri was so sleepy, it didn’t take long to close his eyes. He fell asleep with a smile on his face. He certainly didn’t expect Victor to wake him up again at 6.30, and even if he wasn’t a morning person, he couldn’t even try to pretend being annoyed. Little Yuri however, looked like he had just been punched in the face. 

“You told him! I know you told him!” he snapped, glaring at Yuuri.

_ “I guessed it myself,” _ Victor replied in Russian, which seemed to calm him down slightly.  _ “Listen, it was an accident, and we changed your mattress and nobody saw anything. If someone asks, we all say it was a water bottle.”  _

_ “I wanted to pee on your shoes, not in my bed! I’m too old, Grandpa will be so angry!” _

Despite not understanding them, Yuuri tried to soothe him by rubbing circles at the base of his neck.

_ “Your Grandpa will not be angry. You know, it can happen to adults too! It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Sure, it’s gross, but everything’s clean now, and you can take a shower and feel better. Now, did you just forget to go to the bathroom before sleep, did you dream of something scary? Or was it something else? Because if it’s something else I have to know.” _

There was a fire in Yuri’s eyes when he replied:

_ “I’m not being bullied. I’d kick them with my knife shoes, and punch them, and bite them!” _

_ “Good! So, why?” _

_ “The corridor is creepy and I didn’t want to go alone because there is a light and it blinks weird but then it happened so I still had to go alone and it was scary but then Yuuri was there. I like him.” _

Victor laughed and told him he’d make sure the light was fixed, then announced in English that he was going to eat and would see them both later. Yuuri excused himself and thanked his idol, impressed by his own self control, before bringing Yuri to the shower room. Unlike the one downstairs, this place had private stalls, so he shared Victor’s soap with Yuri by sliding it under the thin plastic wall.

From then on, Yuri followed Yuuri everywhere, and even earned a nickname, because people found it too confusing. He didn’t mind it when Yuuri called him Yurio, but threw a fit if it was anyone else. Yakov tried to separate them for practice, but ended up letting them do what they wanted. Neither of them intruded on the other’s training in a negative way, they were just huddled in the same area constantly.

It didn’t bother Yuuri. Actually, he even liked it. Yurio was really cute, and he pointed out some flaws when Yuuri practiced Victor’s routine one last time before the contest, which was less than 20 hours away. Yuuri was quick to correct them. In exchange, he accompanied Yurio to his ballet class and taught him his favourite moves. As unimpressed as Yurio had been with his skating (he said the only skater worth watching was Victor), he was amazed at his dancing. After Yuuri was mocked for needing a tiny bodyguard by one of the bullies, Yurio retaliated by taking the very last steak at dinner time, right from under his nose, despite telling the kitchen staff earlier during meal registration that he didn’t want one. When asked to give it back, he licked it and grinned.

Yuuri hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble for it - but he saw Victor wink at them both, and knew nothing would happen. He went to sleep at the same time as the novices, and Yurio asked the kid next to Yuuri’s bed to swap places with him. They exchanged their tags, moved their belongings, and the Japanese was finally far enough from the snoring to sleep soundly.

 

 

*

 

 

_ “The first contestant is Xavier Dumont, sixteen years old, from France. He will be skating Victor Nikiforov’s  _ Requiem _ program, first presented in 2001. The difficulty of the program is unchanged and Dumont has chosen not to modify its components.” _

Yuuri wasn’t watching, and when the music played, he silenced it with his own mp3 player. He didn’t like being close to the rink before skating, but he had no choice this time. He was stretching near Yurio.

_ The third contestant is Pyotr Kozlov, seventeen years old, from Russia. He will be skating Victor Nikiforov’s  _ Luna Tu _ program, first presented in 2002. The difficulty of the program has been adjusted and Kozlov has chosen to modify its spins.” _

“He sucks,” Yurio declared at the second disastrous jump, sucking on a lollipop. It made Yakov, who was sitting nearby with his permanent scowl, look like he was about to laugh. 

It was over way too soon. 

_ “The fourth contestant is Yuuri Katsuki, seventeen years old, from Japan-” _

Yuuri blocked the rest of the announcement out of his mind. He glided to the center of the rink, very much aware of Victor’s piercing gaze on him, and took a deep breath. He heard Yurio’s voice shout “Davai”, and guessed what it meant. It made him smile. How he wished he was wearing a costume and not a simple black training outfit! It didn’t do justice to Victor’s program. But there was nothing he could do about it.

The music started, and he let his body flow with it. He loved this routine so much, and made his movements more feminine on purpose. Victor had blurred the line between male and female so well at the time, he wanted to show how much it affected him when he grew up and learned to embrace a femininity that was certainly absent from the attitude of his male classmates. It was when he skated this program one evening, alone in Ice Castle Hasetsu, that he accepted the fact that he was gay. Victor changed his life in so many ways… he could only repay him by showing him how deeply he understood his skating.

Triple axel. 

Double salchow. double toe-loop.

Triple loop - he landed it for the first time in public.

Triple flip. Landed, even though it was wobbly.

He didn’t even realize what he was doing until after it was done.

He over rotated his last double jump, touched the ice with his palm. It didn’t matter. He bent his back in a spiral, then flew across the ice in his modified step sequence. He moved like water. 

When the music stopped, he first saw Yurio jumping up and down, and eventually Victor. Who stood near his coach, wide-eyed, a hand in front of his lips. He looked… happy? Yuuri didn’t dare approach him, instead he just hugged Yurio who seemed very frustrated at his lack of vocabulary to describe what he had just seen.

Unlike regular competitions, there was no Kiss&Cry, and no announcement of anyone’s score. The judges took a few minutes to discuss the modifications with Yakov, Victor and another coach after each routine, adding their opinion to the total score.

Only after the seven eligible skaters were done, did Eva announce the winner. 

“Dumont and Katsuki are tied!”

“Katsuki fell!” Pyotr raged, not loud enough for Eva to hear him, but Victor caught his words. His smile was full of venom when he said, “You might not have fallen, but you butchered my vision and artistry.”

Yuuri was too busy thinking that he was just about to win and maybe it would be him, to register what had been said, and it had been in Russian anyway, but Yurio had the face of a kid who just received a puppy - or in his case, a kitten - for his birthday. Xavier shook Yuuri’s hands. They might not have talked before, but they weren’t enemies. The Japanese was glad none of the bullies received as many points as they both got.

“Katsuki had an impressive step sequence and understood the theme of the routine. His spins were undeniably perfect. However, after careful consideration, Dumont wins, as he presented a flawless, though less risky program.”

There was a pit, and Yuuri was falling into its endless depths. His shaky landing on the flip, his flubbed lutz. They were now playing on repeat in his head, and he couldn’t breathe. He felt a tug on his fingers, and blinked slowly at Yurio.

“I need to pee. I don’t know where the toilets are.”

Relief flared in his chest. His escape route was wide open. He apologized, not that anyone was paying attention, too busy congratulating Xavier, and he almost ran out of the rink, Yurio in tow. Finally, he pointed at the bathroom.

“We’re here.”

“I don’t need to pee.”

“Heh?”

“We can go to the cafeteria! There is the best food. Everyone is busy. We eat outside.”

So… Yurio purposefully gave him an excuse to flee. He saw and understood what he was feeling. Yuuri wanted to cry, hug the kid and never let go. He didn’t do any of it, because Yurio might not like it. They walked back to the main building of the Cube.

Yurio was right about the food. It was time for lunch, just 5 minutes before it was served, so everything would be fresh and delicious. the kid barged in, found a kitchen worker, and told him something in Russian. Two minutes later, they were given a tray with a plate of mango chicken and rice, that they brought outside. They found a table on the other side of the tennis court and were joined by Makkachin. Yuuri’s heavy heart started to heal. He hated losing. It broke his spirit and confidence completely.

“Tonight Grandpa is coming! I’m going home this weekend. Come too?” Yurio piped, his mouth full.

He wanted to. So much. He needed to get away from the rink even if it was just for a day or two. 

“I can’t,” he sighed. “I’ll be a burden.”

“He always makes too much food. Now we can share. My grandpa makes the best food. You need to come!”

“I don’t think I can leave the camp-”

“You’re dumb like Victor.”

As if giving his approval, Makkachin barked. Yuuri wasn’t sure he wanted his owner to find him, so he tried to put his anger behind him and tasted his food. It was really good. They could afford decent cooks given how much they charged for this camp, but it still surprised him slightly.

“I have a cat,” Yurio added. “You need to meet her.”

He wasn’t going to let this go, apparently. Yuuri rolled his eyes and smiled.

“If you call your grandpa and he says yes, then I’m coming.”

He expected a “Yay!” in response, but Yurio just looked smug.  _ Cheeky little brat. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I don't have an obsession with pee but it just fits xD plot device and all.   
> I won't be keeping that posting rhythm, don't get used to it :P


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small warning: in this chapter, Victor is being overly emotional. Nothing bad will happen to Yuuri later. Perhaps because of Victor's reaction here, or perhaps not. So this is a slightly heavier chapter and a bit of a filler to cover the weekend while Yuuri is gone. I also want to build a nest of people Yuuri can trust, which will help build his confidence later.

The way Yuuri’s smile crumbled after hearing the results of the contest broke Victor’s heart. It became obvious instantly that the Japanese needed to get out of there as he was about to break down, but before he could accompany him outside, tiny Yuri was already dragging him away. Victor barely listened to Xavier who excitedly asked if he could have both Victor and Yakov as coaches for a day - a smart move. They decided to do this when other guests could keep an eye on the other kids. Victor was then asked to start training, and Yakov wouldn’t let him leave until he was satisfied. Which took a long time, given how distracted his student was.

When it was finally time to leave, Victor rushed outside, only to run into his father. The universe was definitely against him.

“Can we talk later?” he asked after their usual hug. “I need to find Yuuri.”

Yulian’s eyes shone in delight.

“Ooooh how is he? Do you like him? Tell me everything. Your mother doesn’t want to talk when I call her.”

“It’s because you call her every night when she finally has some time to relax. Her favourite TV show is on at that time. You know it.”

“Vitya, you wound me. Now, stop fidgeting, you won’t find Yuuri, he left with the Plisetsky kid.”

_ Left? _ Panic suddenly rose and Victor felt cold.

“Hey, he’s just gone with him for the weekend, don’t worry!”

“He’s coming back?”

“He is.”

They walked together, joined by Makkachin as soon as they stepped outside. Victor had so many questions, he didn’t know where to start, and he was now thankful for his father’s presence. It helped him forget Yuuri’s crestfallen expression. Yulian was a busy man who was only home in the evening when Victor was growing up. Having him here was nice, even if it would just be for a day or two.

“Why did you invite him? How do you know him?”

“Let’s just say that someone very dear to me asked me to support him when his progress in skating stopped.”

“So you’re what, a sponsor?”

“You could say that, in a way. Anonymous donations. I got him his last pair of skates.”

“Does mom know?”

“Yes.”

Strange. One would think that if his own family was looking after another skater, they would at least tell him. But they brought Yuuri to him, and he would be eternally grateful. 

They talked about the camp, about Victor’s routines, about Makkachin, and about Yuuri’s skating. It led to Victor acknowledging how lost he felt. What should he do? How would he get close to him and learn everything about him? But Yulian, instead of sharing his wisdom, laughed and told him he was old enough to figure it out.

“I haven’t dated anyone since I was sixteen!” he complained. “I’m rusty!”

“”Don’t remind me.”

Yulian and Eva had Victor when they were barely adults. A happy accident. Eva was the responsible one in their home. In private, despite his degree and successful career, Yulian was just like his son. He wore a mask at work, and he kept it at home for a long time, until Victor left. Afterwards, he stopped acting like the serious and stoic father everyone thought he was and relaxed, because he knew his child had been raised properly. The silly, goofy Yulian easily breached Victor’s defenses and the boy confided in him more and more. 

The older man knew everything about his son, and the skater couldn’t help but think he knew even more than him. He had never been surprised by his sudden interest in ballet, or by the dreams and emotions he had. 

“Yuuri looks up to you and has posters of you all over his room,” Yulian said with a wink. “All you need to do is offer him your time and be yourself. For now, he has this godlike image of you. Show him you’re actually human.”

After the gloves episode, Victor shouldn’t have been surprised about the posters, but the news made him giddy. Still… what if the real him wasn’t good enough for Yuuri? There was a reason why relationships with fans were, most of the time, doomed from the start. Would Yuuri like Victor on his off days? When he was lazy? When he didn’t take the trash out, didn’t change the roll of toilet paper, and forgot birthdays and promises? How about the purely human discoveries? Would he run for the hills after smelling Victor’s morning breath, or his feet after he removed his skates? The skater on the glossy paper of a poster was not him.

“Stop thinking, it’s scary when your brain works.”

He chose not to share his worries this time. Instead, both men headed to the village, eager to have a beer, away from the kids and the healthy drinks and meals of the cafeteria.

One beer turned into two then moved on to stronger alcohols. As a result, Victor missed the welcoming committee for the guests who would advise the young skaters for the next week. He was only made aware of their presence when they barged into the dorm in the afternoon.

Victor was awake, but barely, and he still felt just as sick as when Yakov screamed at him earlier in the day before telling him he would not go near the ice today. He threatened to have him clean the toilets for the next three weeks if he did anything that stupid again. 

“Looks like someone got drunk last night!”

He gritted his teeth. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know this voice: Christophe Giacometti, who up until very recently was still in the junior division but was good enough as a senior to be a guest here. Victor competed against him a few times already and considered him a friend. The other skater, however… he didn’t know his full name. Didn’t bother learning it. His first name was Johan and he was Czech. It was someone he despised, because he liked to bring his competitors down in his interviews. He was older than Victor, and didn’t take kindly to the monster whose performance he could never top. Before Victor joined the senior division, he was the one who regularly won gold. The silver-haired young man thought Yakov had invited him on purpose.

Chris dropped his sleeping bag near him, leaving one mattress between them. Johan chose the upper bunk bed. It was as if he was trying to be as far as he could from the others, even pushing the whole bed closer to the door. He spent barely a minute in the room after shoving his valuables in his locker.

Victor opened one eye, and even if his head hurt, he started laughing. Chris chuckled and gave him a bottle of water and an aspirin.

“Always well prepared, I see,” the Russian croaked, grateful.

“If you mean condoms, yeah, I have some.”

“Don’t even go there.”

“Go where? No cute participant this year? That’s a shame. My first time was here you know.”

“You told me.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

Victor groaned and turned on his side.

“The cutest boy in the world. That’s what I’m dealing with.”

“And he’s driving you crazy because…? He’s taken? He’s too young? He’s straight?”

Chris was a bit much to take in with a headache. Victor just shook his head, and even though he had closed his eyes again, he knew what kind of face his friend was pulling. He decided to ignore it.

“When you’re ready to talk, let me know, we’ll go to the pool and you can take pictures of me.”

 

 

*

 

 

Without the novices around, practice went great the next day (and the first, according to Chris, but Victor nursed his hangover until sunset). An Italian junior, Sara Crispino if Victor trusted his memory, finally landed a jump she had been struggling with for years, all thanks to the focus the guests and coaches could provide without the little ones crowding the rink. Victor and Yakov kept their promise, granting Xavier their full attention for the entire day and offering valuable advice he was obviously thankful for. Victor liked the kid: he had expressed his concerns about Yuuri, and seemed to liven up when he was told that no, he didn’t leave permanently. It pleased the Russian to know that the boy had one more ally.

He would need it, or at least that’s what Victor’s brain told him. He often saw things in a dramatic light when they were actually fine. 

Chris and Victor were both heading to the pool before dinner, and they heard a few juniors talk about Yuuri’s invitation. How they found out was a mystery, but it spelled bad news. Victor recognized the voice of the should-be-hockey-player, who spat Yuuri’s name like an insult. Chris’ face fell. Both men looked at each other and took another way out of the rink. They walked to the pool, and checked their surroundings before slipping into the building. Everything was dark. Reassured that no one was there, they locked the door with the keys given to every member of staff. They headed to the locker room. 

Instead of changing, they just sat on a wooden bench. Victor’s jaw was tense and he was trying to forget his fears by staring at a speck on the wall.

It didn’t work.

Few knew of Victor’s last experience as a participant in the summer camp. Those who did, remembered him vanishing after the second day. Chris knew exactly what happened and at the time, at Victor’s own request, he kept his mouth shut.

Victor told his parents and Yakov that he stepped on a broken bottle left outside. 

Chris saw Victor put on his skates and heard the sickening crunch of glass and his friend’s strangled cry. At the time, Victor had been fifteen, and while not yet known as an invincible monster, he was too promising for some people, too naive, and too beautiful. But more than that, he had been too afraid to talk, and once he got over his fears, it was too late.

Knowing that Yuuri was becoming a target chilled him to the bone. He felt sick.

“We have to do something before it happens,” he said through clenched teeth. 

“It’ll be difficult to justify.”

“We’re guests. I’m taking him out of the dorms. We can’t leave him alone.”

“You said he’s friends with a novice. They’ll take it out on the kid if they can’t get to him.”

“Then we get Plisetsky out of the dorms too.”

“It’ll be unfair for the ones who didn’t do anything. I think you're overreacting a bit, but I get why you do it.”

“You have a better i-”

Victor stopped dead in his tracks and turned around so fast he thought he just pulled a muscle. There, behind them, blinking and embarrassed, stood Xavier.

“I- I’m so sorry! I heard voices and I was coming to see if there was an adult who could stay here while I swim, since we can’t actually be anywhere by ourselves-”

The Russian didn’t know what to say. For the first time in years, he couldn’t find his stage persona. Luckily, Chris reacted first, standing up and glancing at both skaters with a seriousness Victor had rarely seen.

“How much of that did you hear?”

Xavier looked straight at him, his confidence coming back and making him straighten up.

“Most of it? Some guys want to bully Yuuri and you don’t know what to do to prevent it.”

“Are you part of these guys? We’ll know if you lie, eventually, so be careful.”

“Eh? No! Why would you think that? You’re insulting me. Can’t believe you’re both clueless with that stuff. You’re supposed to be our mentors. My little sister was bullied at school. Know what I did? I told my friends, who told their younger siblings who went to her school, and they kept her safe. Yuuri can stand up for himself, he’s not a child like my sister was, so a protection squad would just ensure nobody puts nails in his pillow or spits in his food.”

Relieved, Victor almost wanted to laugh, imagining Yuuri permanently surrounded by people when it was so obvious that the boy preferred to be alone. But Xavier clarified his plan, and Chris could only whistle in admiration. The protection squad only meant that the people who were part of it would keep an eye on things as discreetly as possible. They would be witnesses if needed so no one in the Cube could ignore what was happening. It was actually a smart plan that might need to be officialized for the next camp, once it was more polished. 

Victor doubted that Yuuri suffered from the bullies yet. Perhaps nothing would happen even without the squad, however his past wounds made him worry enough to take action.

“I’ll speak to the others,” Xavier continued. “It’s my fourth time here. I know who can be trusted.”

“Alright,” Chris nodded. “Keep us posted.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri comes back from his weekend with a renewed self-confidence.

Spending a weekend away from the camp was the best thing Yuuri could have done. He came back refreshed and happy, feeling more and more like he had a grumpy little brother who was actually incredibly sweet in the comfort of home. Now, he knew how to make piroshki and a few other Russian recipes he couldn’t wait to share with his family. His self-confidence was rebuilding itself. Second place was good. Second place was excellent. He didn’t have a coach. He didn’t have proper training. He just had videos of Victor’s routines, and a ballet teacher who did her best but would never lead him to the podium in the senior division. 

Yuuri was good, and he repeated these words to himself like a mantra. Yurio and his grandfather helped him see it, telling him all of this with their limited English as often as needed until Yuuri didn’t have to force a smile anymore.

He didn’t fully believe it. It would be too easy otherwise, but it definitely helped. Now, stepping into the cafeteria after his first night back, he looked for Victor. Yurio was still sleeping. Victor spotted him first.

“Yuuuuriii!”

Startled, the Japanese barely had time to react before his body was enveloped by warmth. He thought he must have done something right in his life if Victor acted that way with him. Was it just because he defended him? In that case he would do it more often. Part of him wanted to panic, the other just wished Victor would hold him all day. His body stayed perfectly still. He felt like a baby bird. 

The Russian let go of him and grinned, a hand on his shoulder.

“Hi!” His smile was blinding.

“...Hi,” Yuuri murmured shyly, aware of the way his cheeks burned.

“Sorry, did I scare you? I was so worried when you didn’t come back, you know if I had been judging the contest you would have won because of the step sequence. Can I use it? Can you show it to me again? It’s inspiring.”

If the sudden hug didn’t make Yuuri’s brain go completely haywire, Victor’s words certainly did the trick. Overwhelmed, he tried to answer, but realized he just spoke Japanese and the silver-haired man was watching him curiously. 

“I meant- yes- yes you- please use it!”

“Ah but Yuuri, I want to give you something in return, so how about we choreograph your senior debut together?”

Senior debut? Yuuri barely remembered how to breathe and just stared at Victor’s blue eyes. He couldn’t advance to the next division without a coach, it would take time before he found one and he only had two years left before he was too old to compete at his current level.

“You don’t need to use it this year,” Victor continued. 

Everyone would hate him if Victor focused on him during the camp. There was a fluttering in his chest at the thought, yet now that his shock was wearing off, he felt a hint of pride.

“I’d like that,” he heard himself reply. “I- thank you, Victor.”

A part of him was screaming, begging him to ask for an autograph or a picture, but he kept his inner fanboy in check. Victor was not behaving like he always did with his fans when he talked to him. His smile was completely different from the one he had in public and Yuuri loved it. His adoration for the man was changing; he wanted to know him better and discover who he really was, away from the press and fans. He always wanted it, yes, but now it seemed like his wish could actually come true.

He blinked when a tray was thrust in front of him.

“Eat with me?” Victor asked, his expression hopeful. He had chosen the same breakfast for himself and Yuuri wondered when he had spaced out.

He nodded and followed him to the back of the cafeteria, taking a look at what he was going to eat. Victor Nikiforov chose his breakfast. It shouldn’t make him so happy but it did. A glass of freshly pressed orange juice, a bowl of oatmeal and a poached egg. His stomach grumbled and Victor laughed. It was the most beautiful sound he ever heard.

“I can’t believe this is real,” he sighed, then realized he said it out loud and whimpered. 

“Aww Yuuri!”

He knew his face was bright red. From the corner of his eye he saw his idol look utterly delighted. God, he loved how he wore his hair up in the morning. That messy bun shouldn’t suit him so well. And now his fingertips were brushing against his arm...

“I never thanked you for defending me last week. I was really touched. Thank you. Have you been my fan for a long time?”

Swallowing his first bite of food, Yuuri nodded. Victor pushed slightly, and the younger boy told him about the first time he saw him.

“Ooh you must have been so cute!”

“You don’t think it’s creepy?”

“I’d never find you creepy, Yuuri.”

If you blushed long enough, would the color stay forever? Because the Japanese was pretty sure he would soon have to hide for the rest of his life. Then his mouth spoke before his brain could stop it:

“Do you really think I’m beautiful?”

Victor seemed surprised at first, then his blue eyes brightened. No one had ever looked at Yuuri this way before, or smiled at him with so much tenderness. Under Victor’s gaze, Yuuri forgot his insecurities. 

“Yuuri, you’re gorgeous.”

Eating was becoming difficult. Yuuri might be inexperienced and sometimes dense but there was no way this was anything but flirting. Instead of scaring him, it just filled him with awe. He took a deep breath, hearing the sounds of people coming closer, and before anyone could enter the cafeteria and break the spell, he smiled shyly, and told Victor how much he liked his eyes.

Confessing this was so far out of his comfort zone that he was actually grateful for the interruption when Yurio joined them, glaring at the older Russian and demanding Yuuri’s full attention.

 

 

*

 

 

Yuuri spent the entire day feeling like someone was watching him, and while he knew exactly who it was, he still had a hard time believing it. Even when Victor was on the ice, or talking to Chris or Yakov, he kept looking his way. It distracted him and made him flub his jumps more than usual. Feeling defeated, he left the ice at 4pm. Yurio was too busy trying to get his lutz right to follow him. He noticed Xavier smiling at him and gave him a small nod, the bitterness of his loss in the contest mostly gone. What he didn’t see however, was Victor following him, and he only realized it when he was already outside and walking towards the pool. He was convinced he would faint if the man kept appearing like that.

Ashamed of his failed jumps, he barely reacted when the Russian wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“You’re going swimming, right? I’m coming with you! You can’t be in there alone anyway.”

He blushed. Again. Victor was the best at cheering him up with just a few words. He was about to go to the pool with his idol, which meant he would see him almost naked and this time he intended to keep his glasses nearby. His emotions were a roller-coaster right now. No, they had been that way for a while, Victor just made it worse. There was also something about his presence that made him bold. Before meeting him, he would never have stood up to a group of boys who could easily beat him up. He might be shy, but the Russian brought out something new in him, and he liked it. It was nerve-wracking, yet once he did something he would never have done before, it felt exhilarating.

As Victor opened the door to the locker room where everyone’s swimsuits and trunks were stored, Yuuri’s heart was almost leaping out of his chest, because he just knew he was about to ask him something that made his reserved self scream. He bit his lower lip. The silver-haired man opened a locker and removed his shirt.

“V-Victor?”

_ Keep your eyes on his face, Yuuri. _

An elegantly shaped eyebrow arched, waiting.

“I-Are you-I mean, why me?”

Victor looked confused, so Yuuri continued:

“You’re- do you compliment everyone? Do you tell Chris that he’s handsome too?”

The Russian moved closer, Yuuri’s brain misfiring. His pants were unbuttoned, his underwear low on his hips. 

_ Silver pubic hair, _ the Japanese thought, and this observation would probably never leave him alone for as long as he lived. There was that finger on his chin again, only this time he could see him properly. 

“I said you were beautiful and gorgeous. I don’t say that to anyone. You really are. I've been flirting with you, if that’s what you wanted to ask. You being you is more than enough for me. Spend more time with me? I want to know you. I can make up excuses for Yakov and the others. Choreographing something together is just one thing. Unless you don’t want to?”

Yuuri was vaguely aware that his hands were shaking. He kept quiet.

“I also know that you only know me from magazines and TV so, if you’re okay with it I’d like to be just me, around you.”

Gasping, he repeated his words in his head. It was a dream come true. Had he read his thoughts this morning? He would like nothing more than knowing the man behind the mask.

He turned away to change and Victor did the same. When they faced each other again, Yuuri’s cheeks were still burning, He kept his eyes on the floor. 

This allowed him to see a nasty scar on the side of the champion’s left foot. Strange, he never heard about him being injured. It must have happened before he was famous enough to make headlines every time he sneezed. He snapped out of his thoughts when Victor lifted his foot and traced the scar. He raised his eyes and was met with a melancholic smile.

“Always check your skates or shoes before you put them on, alright?” his voice was soft.

Yuuri couldn’t help himself. He kneeled down on the floor and took Victor’s foot in his hands. The Russian sat on the bench.

“Someone did this to you?” the younger boy asked, horrified.

A nod.

“Why?”

“Jealousy. Yuuri, it happened here, which is why I never came back. If you feel threatened, even if it’s just someone calling you names, can you promise to tell me?”

Yuuri didn’t like reporting people when he could just ignore them. He didn’t think he was in any danger, but understood Victor’s need to protect him now. Letting the foot go, he chewed on his bottom lip then sighed. 

“I will.”

The atmosphere lost its hint of darkness. Victor grabbed his wrist, beaming, and walked with him to the showers, then to the empty pool.

“You can let go,” Yuuri said, but he really didn’t mind if Victor never did.

A few seconds later, Victor jumped, dragging him into the water.

“Aaaah it’s freezing!” 

“That’s why you take a cold shower. Why did you turn on the hot water?” the Russian laughed. 

“I was raised in a hot spring, I don’t do cold!”

“Russia’s cold. I’m Russian and born in the winter so I’m cold. Does that mean you won’t-”

There was no word to describe Yuuri’s embarrassment, and he climbed on Victor’s shoulders to shut him up. The silver-haired man didn’t struggle, instead he just allowed himself to sink, and pushed against the wall with his feet to push his body forward. He resurfaced a few meters away, looking like a mischievous mermaid.

Yuuri didn’t need to be seduced by a song, he was already too far gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is posted so late! My Internet died when I was writing last night. I write on google docs. That was not nice. Anyway, you want some poetic justice? Have fun :P
> 
> \----  
> Note: when people speak Russian the text is in italics.

After an hour in the pool, Yuuri and Victor were exhausted and felt like their limbs would fall off. Still, they were not ready to go their separate ways; they headed to the village. The sun hung low in the sky as they left the Cube behind them, and Victor briefly closed his eyes to feel the breeze on his face. He smiled when Yuuri’s fingers brushed against his own.

Being there together, walking quietly with Makkachin running in front of them, felt good. It felt  _ right _ . When Victor glanced at the other boy’s face he only saw a peaceful expression, his brown eyes shining in the fading light. It brought him a kind of happiness he hadn’t felt before, even when he was still dating. Who needed gold medals when someone like Yuuri existed in this world?

They followed the road and reached the first building, housing a small supermarket which was the only source of food the inhabitants could find unless they drove an hour to the nearest city or happened to work at the Cube. Yuuri smirked at the sight of an old poster of Victor left on the wall near the door. Il was peeling and the colors were almost gone. The Russian remembered the photoshoot because the studio had been insanely hot and he fainted at the end. He thought Yuuri would ask if he could have a copy. He would give him every single picture he wanted. But the Japanese didn’t say that. Perhaps he already owned it.

“Do people bother you a lot when you go outside?” he asked as they passed by a small fountain.

“They used to do it a lot more when I was younger, something about being cuter and easier to approach. It doesn’t always bother me, but sometimes I’m in a bad mood and want to be alone, or I’m in a hurry, or I just don’t want to start signing autographs when I’m choosing a lettuce at the store. It also means there is a risk I’ll be making headlines if I do anything people haven’t seen from me before.”

Yuuri lifted his gaze towards the sky.

“So, you can’t even go out if you’re not impeccably dressed or if you look less perfect than usual?”

He snorted. He could, but then it would start rumors about serious health issues - don’t even get him started on going into a pharmacy. The last time he went in (to buy his favourite effervescent vitamins), the paparazzi said he was dying.

“As long as my loved ones aren’t harassed, I don’t really care. It’s part of the deal,” he added.

“But then you never go out with your lover, right? They could receive threats.”

“I haven’t dated anyone since I was sixteen. I don’t know how my fans and the press would treat them but I’d protect them.”

At that, he looked at Yuuri, who was now blushing like he did so often. Slowly, he took his hand, and they stopped moving.

“I wouldn’t trap them. I’d want to do everything with them. Walking Makkachin. Going to see a movie, going to the beach and the Christmas fair and an outdoor rink, and if we appear on the front page of a newspaper I’d cut the picture and frame it.”

“They would need to know how to skate for the outdoor rink.”

“Mhm.”

He had no idea when his palm moved to cup the younger boy’s jaw, or when Yuuri got so close. If he wanted to, Victor could count his long eyelashes.

“I- I’d like to visit a Christmas market,” the dark-haired boy whispered.

_ Why is he so cute? I bet my ears are bright red now. _

A sharp pain exploded in his knee and he turned around, finding the green eyes of Tiny Yuri blazing with fury. How?! He wasn’t supposed to be out after 4pm. But Yuuri laughed and Victor couldn’t blame the kid for breaking their sweet moment if this was what he gave him in exchange.

_ “You shouldn’t be here,”  _ he said in Russian, eyeing the Japanese who was ruffling the boy’s blond hair.

_ “Well you can’t be here either!”  _ the kid snapped.

_ “I can, I’m a guest.” _

_ “Yuuri’s my friend! Not yours!” _

_ “He can be my friend and your friend too. Come on, we’ll bring you back to the Cube.” _

_ “You were looking at him funny. It was gross. Bring me back and I’ll tell Yakov you took me with you after my curfew.” _

He sighed. There was no winning with that brat. He bent over and rubbed his sore knee, while Yurio growled (he heard Yuuri call him that way and decided to do it too now). The child then grinned at Yuuri and told him he was joining them.

_ “If I say yes, then you tell the truth to Yakov, and to Mila’s mom, because she will know when we come back. Tell them you sneaked out on your own.” _

Yurio extended his hand and Victor shook it. Having someone like this at the rink when he joined the junior division would definitely be entertaining. The kid then took Yuuri’s hand and stuck out his tongue at Victor, and they all decided to stay in the village for a while.

They stopped at a touristy coffee shop when Yuuri’s stomach growled. Victor barely touched his drink. Instead, he watched his crush and Yurio talk animatedly about a movie they watched together. The conversation flowed despite the kid’s extremely limited English. The Japanese showed genuine interest in everything Yurio said. His patience and gentle gaze made Victor melt. 

It was only an hour later, when they were back at the Cube and Victor had been thoroughly yelled at by his coach, that he noticed his phone was gone.

 

 

*

 

 

“I swear I had it at the village!”

The silver-haired Russian panicked after Chris asked him for the third time if he didn’t just leave his phone at the rink or the pool. He had barely slept after returning from the village a second time to look for the lost item, tossing and turning in his bed, and as a result his roommates also looked like hell. Johan, the Czech guest, glared at him with murder written all over his face.

The participants were awake, most were at the cafeteria but a few lingered around the lounge, curious about Victor’s meltdown. 

“Vitya.”

He ran to Yakov as soon as he heard his name.

“Did you find it? Tell me you-”

“Vitya, you’re making a fool of yourself. You can buy a new one, it’s not the end of the world.”

“But-”

“Do you want one of the kids to tell the press how hysterical you can be? Get a grip!”

He shivered. It could lead to serious issues if someone were to leak the info and contacts on his phone and he didn’t need stalkers in his life. Yet Yakov was right; he needed to calm down. He refused to be weak in front of Yuuri, who thankfully wasn’t close-by. He took a few deep breaths. After the fifth, he saw Yurio walk up to them and tell Yakov he wanted to show him something important. His expression was too serious for a child. He then noticed Xavier and Sara right behind him.

_ “Them too,”  _ Yurio added, pointing at Victor, Chris and Johan.

Yakov nodded and they found themselves crammed into a small office. The Czech still seemed irate and Xavier had his arms crossed.

“Mind explaining?” the coach barked.

“Yurio,” the French skater said gently, “the phone.”

Victor’s eyes widened as his phone was given to Yakov. He started to smile, wanting to thank the kid, before realizing how chilly and heavy the atmosphere was.

_ “Did you take this from Victor?” _

Yurio nodded, a fire glowing in his eyes.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Xavier said, “but he never intended to steal it. We needed to record something.”

“So you sent a kid outside, after curfew, made him run to the village to find Victor and steal his phone? Can you tell me why you shouldn’t be banned from the camp immediately?”

Yurio said it was his idea. Confused, Victor locked eyes with the teenager. It took only a second to remember the protection squad. Fury replaced his initial joy, but he kept it under control. He tightened his fists.

“Did you catch the bullies?” he asked, and Yurio, Sara and Xavier said yes - Yurio looked very proud and Chris whistled, impressed. Johan was pale. 

If Yakov was a kettle, he would be wheezing and expelling fumes and water by now. Instead he just looked like a lobster. Xavier asked him to watch the video on the phone. 

Just the sound was enough for everyone on the other side of the table. Victor’s rage was boiling halfway through the video.

Yurio caught three of the older participants whispering in an abandoned area of the Cube, discussing what they could do to shut up Katsuki for good. 

One of them suggested putting broken glass in his skates.

At that, Chris’s hand squeezed Victor’s shoulder.

“Ha, that’s horrible!” another replied, but he sounded amused.

“It works pretty well too. He’ll never tell anyone, trust me.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Nikiforov kept his mouth shut didn’t he? My brother did it to him.”

No one heard the end of the video. There was no need. All eyes were on Victor. Surprisingly, the first one who spoke was Johan.

“What the fuck?!” he murmured, horrified, then added after seeing both Chris and the silver-haired skater’s dumbfounded stares, “I mean, yeah I can’t stand you, but who did that to you? When?”

“It’s not important,” Victor cringed. “Yuuri’s in danger and we have enough evidence to end these kids’ careers, so why are we still talking?”

“Not important?!” Yakov yelled, making Sara and Xavier wince. “Why did you lie? You told us you stepped on a bottle-”

“It wasn’t a lie.”

“Vitya!”

“My first camp as a guest?” Johan guessed, his face still white as a sheet. “When you were rushed to the hospital? You were just a kid! You guys,” he looked at Sara, Xavier and Yurio, “are the best! You caught a confession! Ah, I’m so glad I’m here to witness that, sweet sweet justice.”

“For someone who likes to tell the press how everyone sucks except himself, you’re a bit too happy,” Chris remarked, while Yakov rewatched the video and called a meeting with the rest of the staff.

“I haven’t done that in a while, but if I offended any of you, sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’m pissed off at Victor, stealing the gold and glory, and I’m angry at myself because I’ll never be good enough. Don’t take it personally, guys.”

Victor didn’t really care. He still disliked the guy, and all he wanted now was to stop blushing, ashamed and at the same time relieved that his secret was out. He needed to see Yuuri and hug him, and he couldn’t wait for the bullies to discover they had been filmed.

“Alright,” Yakov groaned, “get out, everyone. Vitya, I’m keeping your phone for now. Go find Yuuri and stay with him. Guys, don’t let Plisetsky out of your sight until I’m done.”

Sara and Xavier nodded and walked out first, the blond kid grinning, standing between them. Chris and Johan stayed close to the office in case they were needed, and Victor left them behind, rushing to the cafeteria. He ran into Yuuri who was walking out.

He was drenched.

“Yu-Yuuri?!”

His big brown eyes shone beautifully when he looked up at him.

“Hi!” he said softly. “Sorry, I need to take a shower.”

He frowned and let him exit the room, but followed him downstairs. Once they were in the empty dorm, he waited. No need to push him if Yuuri didn’t want to talk. 

The Japanese grabbed another track suit (it was recommended that each participant bring two) then smiled.

“Someone thought it would be fun to waste orange juice on my head. It’s okay though, he slipped in the puddle afterwards and fell against a chair. His nose bled.”

He didn’t know if he should be angry or amused, but decided to laugh, seeing Yuuri’s grin widen at the memory. He still worried though, and followed Yuuri to the bathroom.

 

 

*

 

 

Bewildered glances and hushed questions filled the cafeteria in the late afternoon, after everyone had been forced to stop whatever they were doing. Yuuri had been working on some ideas for his choreography and it had been a great day; he spent it with Victor after all. They were making slow progress because they were distracted by each other’s presence, and because they argued about the music they wanted to use. Victor glanced at the Japanese, who was sitting with Yurio, Sara and Xavier. Chris and him were leaning against the empty counter where the workers left the breakfast buffet in the morning. Johan was talking with Mila’s mother. There was no novice in the room except Yurio.

Everyone stopped talking when Yakov and the other coaches entered, followed by none other than Victor’s father, with his professional mask on, and a woman Victor recognized as an ISU official. Surprised, the young man wondered how they managed to get here so fast. 

The name of each skater was called and they all waited for the last one to come in (a junior who got lost downstairs and quickly found a spot in the front row). 

“Now that everyone is here, allow me to introduce you to Yulian Nikiforov, a lawyer who was here last weekend, and Alina Antonellis, representing the ISU. They came here on short notice and I want each of you to listen to what they have to say.”

Alina spoke about the importance of forging friendships through sport, a lengthy speech that made Victor sleepy, and finally Yulian stepped in front of the audience and turned on a projector. The picture shown explained why no novice had been asked to come.

Victor heard someone gag, and disgusted exclamations rose. He found Yuuri’s gaze and smiled at him, trying to reassure him. He didn’t need to look; he knew what was displayed. A picture of his foot just after it got stitched up.

“Now, I’m sure you’re all wondering how we went from friendly competition and strong bonds between skaters, to this here,” Yulian started, and Victor had never heard him speak that way. There was a dangerous edge to his voice and his eyes were like ice. “The boy this foot belongs to was fifteen when this picture was taken. He was lucky, the damage didn’t cripple him permanently. How do you feel when you look at it?”

He wasn’t waiting for an answer but a few voices spoke up. Victor heard the words “sick”, “disturbed”, “sad” and “scared”. Yulian’s whole body tensed visibly.

“And how would you feel if you knew some people find it amusing?”

The voices were louder now, but a few people at the back were suddenly sitting very still.

“Normally I wouldn’t be there. I’m a busy man and Mr Feltsman is more than capable of dealing with this topic. However, this foot,” he pointed at it again, “belongs to my son, and until today I was not aware that someone thought it would be hilarious to put shards of glass inside his skate. He was too afraid to tell the truth. That’s what bullying leads to. Having to remind you all, first with your contract, then the rulebook, and finally today, how harmful it can be, is sad and infuriating. In case you didn’t realize it, what they did to Victor is a crime.”

His frozen gaze landed on the boys at the back.

“The decision to speak about it today comes from a very interesting video of some of you, laughing as you planned to do the same thing to one of your peers.”

Everyone started talking at the same time. Victor moved closer to Yuuri’s table, still trying to ground him with a gentle nod. He was here for him. He would always be. He wanted him to know that.

“I believe a public reminder is the only way to deal with the situation at this point. If everyone knows, will you still find it funny? Because you sounded so damn proud of yourselves. Congratulations.”

He stepped back, the picture vanished, and Alina, who had lost her cheery grin, called three names. 

“You are, as of now, banned from the camp. You are no longer allowed to compete under any skating union. As per your contract, the fees to change your flight and book a room elsewhere until you can go home are on you. You will not be left alone until you board your plane.”

The next few minutes were chaotic. After the offenders were gone, Victor showed his scars to everyone who wanted to see them, Chris supporting him, and he only managed to sit with Yuuri after answering several questions. Yuuri didn’t speak. He leaned against him and let him wrap his arms around his waist.

Yulian joined them and spoke to each of them quietly. The kitchen staff brought a selection of hot and cold drinks, some of which the athletes would normally not find here, and distributed pastries and fruits. Yakov and Alina left; they both had work to do. The boys would lose their sponsors, career and reputation. One of them would be expelled from school as he was in a private establishment on an athletic scholarship. 

The skaters were still too shocked to move. No one was in the mood to go back to the rink. Groups formed, and discussions happened naturally. It wasn’t a result Victor was expecting and it warmed his heart. Not all of them would become friends, but perhaps some of them would speak up for others, or for themselves. Maybe going public was worth it. He rested his cheek on Yuuri’s hair and breathed in the scent of his shampoo, his heartbeat slowing down as his body relaxed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this were an angsty story the boys would get their revenge. Thankfully this is not an angsty story. As for what will happen to the guy who did that to Victor, I'm pretty sure nothing can be done, so I'll let it be, but it's not completely the end of this small bullying arc. I'm also aware that the punishment for these boys who didn't actually do anything yet, can seem outrageous, but this might not be the first time they got caught ;) 
> 
> I hope you're ready because I planned my chapters now and you're in this for the long run :P The camp will end in a few chapters, but the focus is on Yuuri and Victor :3


	8. Chapter 8

Yuuri hadn’t been aware of the tension in his shoulders until his bullies were gone. He didn’t even call them bullies before the orange juice incident, but Victor showed him the video and the Japanese understood he had severely underestimated them. He thought he would have trouble sleeping; the video scared him. But Yurio pushed their beds together as if he knew it would calm him down. The child helped so much; he had no doubt they would have gone ahead with their plan without his intervention. They held hands and were still in the same position at dawn.

He didn’t see Victor in the morning, which he spent on the ice with Xavier, Yurio, Mila and Sara. His circle of friends was growing and he had no idea why. They even went to the ballet studio together for an hour and were about to go eat when a flash of silver caught Yuuri’s attention. Victor, dressed in a black t-shirt and shorts, sunglasses pushing his hair back, was smirking, leaning against the door of the boys’ locker room.

“Victor?” he gasped, before noting that his cheeks didn’t redden this time. He was getting used to his presence.

“I have sandwiches! I made them, the staff let me into the kitchen. I have a tart too. Can we eat together?”

His body might have learned to stop blushing so much, but his heart certainly had no intention to calm down.

“Actually… I kinda promised Yurio we'd go to the cafeteria together.”

Victor lifted the plastic bag he was carrying. It looked about to burst.

“I have too much food.”

Xavier walked up to them, smirked, and with a wink, told them to enjoy themselves. He was gone before any of them could invite him too. Yurio put on his shoes, forgetting to tie the laces, and ran to them. He wanted a sandwich. Or, he wanted to be with Yuuri, and wouldn’t accept to leave Victor alone with him. Yuuri crouched and tied the kid’s laces.

Makkachin waited for them outside, and ran in circles when they came out. They chose a spot in the shade, on a stone bench facing the forest behind the rink. Yurio inspected his sandwich with a sneer, then tried to keep from smiling and grumbled something in Russian. Curious, Yuuri looked at Victor, still amazed each time he stared into his beautiful eyes, and the older man whispered that he had seen Yurio choose these ingredients regularly for breakfast, so he assumed he would like them in a sandwich. He knew the kid would join them today, it was pretty obvious you couldn't get rid of him when he was nearby.

Yuuri bit into the bread and sighed.  _ Victor Nikiforov made you a sandwich!  _ was echoing in his head.

When a bird stole a part of the apricot tart he brought, Victor’s outraged scream made Yuuri laugh so hard he couldn’t breathe. As a result, Yurio started laughing as well, and the silver-haired skater cackled with them after trying, in vain, to shoo the bird. It was now glaring at him from a tree branch.

“It’s staring into my soul,” he groaned, hands hovering protectively above the tart.

“Can I have a bite?”

The gleam in Victor’s eyes told Yuuri he was about to flirt.

“Of my soul? Of me?”

_ Yes. All of you _ .

“The-the TART!”

And Victor winked before cutting the dessert in small parts and eating his.  _ He’s going to kill me. That’s it. Sorry Mari, Mom, Dad, Yuuko, Vicchan… I’m dead and buried. I leave my skates to Yurio. _

“But Yuuri, I can give you so much more~”

Torn between admiring the grass between his feet and getting his revenge on Victor for embarrassing him, Yuuri calmed himself down with a few deep breaths while Yurio said something in Russian that made Victor laugh even harder, and he took the most daring decision of his short life.

Leaning in, he stole a crumb from the corner of Victor’s lips. With his tongue.

Yurio reacted first, grabbing the tart before it hit the ground (the bird swooped in and stole some of it again). The Japanese kept his eyes locked with the older Russian’s even if he was terrified of what he had just done. He couldn’t read Victor’s expression.

He guessed he didn’t hate it though, because soon his fingers were trailing behind his neck, playing with his hair, and his mask broke, showing the softest gaze and most loving smile ever directed at him.

“My flirting is working well,” he murmured, but there was nothing smug in his tone. He sounded more amazed than proud.

He could only nod, his bravery melting away. Victor was getting closer, his breath smelled like apricot and his lips attracted him like a magnet.

Yurio chose this moment to slap Victor with the plastic bag, containing one last abandoned sandwich, before spewing a torrent of what Yuuri assumed to be swear words.

Perhaps they would have resumed their staring contest if Yakov hadn’t appeared shortly after and yelled at Victor to go practice while everyone else had lunch. Satisfied, Yurio stayed with Yuuri and told him Victor was weird.

  
  


*

  
  


At first, Yuuri thought he would never fall asleep because his crush’s face kept appearing in his mind, so close, and if he let himself dream he could imagine how it would be to kiss him. His lips had looked so soft! Yuuri had never kissed anyone. He was already too shy and too busy to make friends, and he thought about Victor so much he doubted he could have dated someone. No one would want to share a part of his heart with his idol after all. Not that he ever had eyes for anyone else, except his silly little crush on his best friend when he was a child.

After tossing and turning repeatedly however, Yuuri found out the almost-kiss was only part of the reason for his insomnia. He did sleep, because he closed his eyes for a minute and when he reopened them the group of kids who had been playing cards was in bed with the lights out, but there was something very wrong that woke him up and was now preventing him from dozing off again.

He touched his forehead and found it damp. His legs were sticky and his shirt wet. He then realized he couldn’t hear the air conditioner nor see its usual blinking green light. Disgusted by his own sweat, he put on his glasses. His eyes got used to the darkness and he grabbed a pair of shorts, a towel and a clean shirt, then stopped briefly to uncover Yurio’s body so he wouldn’t be too bothered by the heat. Why was it so hot anyway? He was in Russia, not Japan! Would the showers still be open? He couldn’t check what time it was since his phone was being kept with all the other devices. He walked towards the bathroom and sure enough, he only had access to the toilets and sinks. He still removed his damp shirt and underwear then used the towel to wash his body with cold water. He made a mess on the floor, so he grabbed the “Caution: Wet Floor” sign left in a corner and placed it in the doorway. He put on his shorts, went back to the dorm to leave his gross clothes and the towel in his dirty laundry bag, then headed upstairs.

He would get in trouble if he was caught. He just couldn’t stand the heat anymore. The idea of napping in the lounge was particularly appealing.

The digital clock indicated 1 AM.

He chose the same couch he had slept on when Yurio wet the bed, and a light outside surprised him. The rink. Either someone forgot to turn off the lights, or a skater was practicing, and Yuuri only knew one person who would break every rule of this particular camp without fear of repercussion. He might be wrong. It could be Chris, Johan, or a coach. Something told him it was Victor.

He once again listened to the voice he usually ignored, and he carefully left the Cube.

He avoided the guard who patrolled outside (and who didn’t seem to care about the rink), running discretely in the grass, and he welcomed the cold air when he opened the door. His intuition had been right.

Victor hadn’t tied his hair. His beauty took Yuuri’s breath away. The man was working on a part of his new short program. Quietly, Yuuri sat close to the barrier and watched in awe as he danced and spun, his face relaxed and his movements graceful and precise. There was no music so the Japanese listened to the blades cutting the ice.

The Russian ended up noticing him. He called his name, the adorable way he pronounced it making the boy shiver and smile.

“Is my Yuuri a rule-breaker too?”

_ His  _ Yuuri? If he hadn’t already been so attracted to Victor, that might have been enough to push him over the edge.

“You’re the one making me do this,” he heard himself say.

“Good! Can you watch me? I want to try something but I can’t really do it when no one’s around.”

He nodded and stood up, then leaned on the barrier.

First came a flawless quadruple salchow, then a combination spin. Yuuri’s excitement grew and he sighed happily when he executed another perfect jump. Quad flip, quad loop.

And-

“Victor!” The Japanese felt a surge of fear. “Don’t!”

Quad axel. Victor fell, unsurprisingly. He whined a little, saying he wished he could have blown Yuuri away.

“You could have hurt yourself! You impress me enough with everything else.”

“Aww, you’re too cute,” Victor giggled, skating towards him, then hugging him. Yuuri noticed his exhaustion. His shuddering breath, his flushed skin and the sweat on his face and neck meant he had overdone it.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Victor continued, speaking close to his ear.

“The AC broke, I think. It was too hot.”

“Mh, I’ll tell the staff to take a look.”

“You-you can let go, you know?”

“Nope.”

Amused and charmed, the younger boy tentatively touched the long silky hair, his fingers going up and down Victor’s back. The barrier between them was getting annoying.

They stayed in this awkward position until Victor stepped back and grinned devilishly.

“Just one more and then I’ll stop. Watch me!”

The feeling of bliss was replaced by worry, again. But Victor wouldn’t listen, so Yuuri could only cross his fingers.

Victor under rotated his next attempt at the quad axel, and stubbornly chose to try again. And this time, when he landed and slipped, it was obviously painful. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. He glided to the edge of the rink and got out, and as soon as he slipped his pink skate guards on Yuuri grabbed his arm and dragged him to the nearest bench. He wasn’t worried anymore, he was angry. His eyes prickled with tears yet he refused to cry in front of him. He understood now why Yakov was always yelling at his student.

The Russian’s smile faded and he frowned.

“Yuuri?”

“Why?! You were tired, why did you do that?”

“It was for you-”

“I don’t need a quad axel to like you or admire you! You scared me!”

Victor bit his lower lip and caressed the boy’s cheekbones, gathering the few tears that were stuck to his eyelashes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I won’t do it again, not like that. Please don’t cry. I’m alright.”

It took a minute for Yuuri’s stress to disappear. When it did, the Japanese asked to see Victor’s foot. There was no swelling and he had no trouble moving it. Relieved, Yuuri sat next to him and took his hand between his fingers. He was starting be rather cold and sleepy.

“Come on, let’s go back,” Victor said after putting on his shoes.

With a yawn and a nod, Yuuri walked with him, hand in hand, to the locker room, then outside in the warmth of summer. They reached the stairs but Victor didn’t stop, and Yuuri didn’t ask. They passed the door to the office, then the coaches and guests’ dormitories, and turned at the end of the corridor where another door stood, labelled Guests#2. Curious, Yuuri was led into a small room with four mattresses arranged on a single bedframe, the same layout that could be found where Victor slept, only tinier.

“No one sleeps here,” Victor confessed. “There is some dust but the AC works. You couldn’t sleep here last week with Yurio because it was locked, but I found the key and I slept here yesterday. Chris snores, so…”

Yuuri’s eyes widened, seeing a sleeping bag and a large pillow already there. He knew what this meant but he wanted to hear it from the man himself.

“I thought we could sleep here.”

“I-”

“Just sleep. I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

Yuuri trusted him. He left his shoes on the floor, crawled on the mattresses and lay on his side. The pillow smelled like Victor. He drifted off to sleep immediately.

He woke up a few minutes later when Victor came back after a shower and joined him under the unzipped sleeping bag. In his sleepy daze, the Japanese instinctively sought Victor’s warmth and curled up against him. He felt an arm around his waist, and fought to stay awake just a little more.

“How is your foot?” he asked.

“Sore, but it’s still not swollen. I won’t skate tomorrow, just in case. I sent a text to Yakov so he can see it in the morning and start his day angry.”

Yuuri snorted, which made Victor laugh, which made them both dissolve into hysterics. They tried to keep quiet but each time they looked at each other, they started again. Only when they could think straight did Yuuri speak his mind:

“I could get used to this.”

“Me too. I don’t want to let go.”

“Don’t, then.”

The younger skater felt Victor’s lips on his forehead. He thought he should kiss him too. He remembered how daring he had been earlier, and he remembered Victor’s reaction. Perhaps the Russian wanted more, but couldn't ask.

Yuuri had always imagined his first kiss being given to him while he stayed passive, letting it happen, so he could learn. Yet he took the initiative, and his lips met Victor’s, who responded with a gasp. Encouraged, Yuuri augmented the pressure, loving how soft his mouth felt against his, how it tasted, and how Victor’s embrace tightened around him.

It was a slow, tender kiss, and it was better than anything Yuuri ever dreamed of. He didn’t feel rushed, only loved, and when they eventually decided to sleep, he used Victor’s shoulder as a pillow without any regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get a few more chapters written within the next 8 days as I'll be in Japan for three weeks afterwards and might not write at all (I always say that but I still write when I travel so, you never know!)
> 
> Rating will go up soon. The story will not turn Explicit, but our sweet boys will still have a lot of fun. I'll just keep the smut to a not-too-detailed level.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I posted Chapter 8 last week, for some reason it ended up on page 6 or 7 of Ao3 right away, so if you haven't seen it or if you didn't get the email make sure you don't miss it :P (because after the maintenance the website had a few issues on my end)

Victor liked surprises and he didn’t think he would get such a nice one after scaring Yuuri at the rink. Their first kiss was perfect. The second, third, and all those before they fell asleep were better. Yuuri, his Yuuri, was a gift.

The other surprise that made him burst with happiness was finding out how unbearably adorable Yuuri looked when he muttered his name in his sleep. His body fit perfectly against his. The slow rhythm of his breath against his neck delighted him. He nuzzled his thick hair, keeping one hand on the small of his back and the other on his shoulder, drawing lazy circles with the tip of his index finger. If every morning could start this way, Victor would be the luckiest man on Earth.

He wasn’t actually sure it was morning anymore. He never had trouble waking up early but Yuuri was like a snooze button. Each time Victor opened his eyes, the boy’s heartbeat lulled him back to sleep. At some point he heard muffled laughter and chatter when everyone headed to the cafeteria and now everything was quiet again. He felt slightly guilty for keeping Yuuri from practicing, but they went to bed so late that the Japanese would be exhausted if he let him go to the rink. He might be reckless with his own body but he would never endanger Yuuri, and after seeing his tears he knew he would be careful too (Yakov’s prayers would finally be answered).

The only issue with sleeping in so late was hunger. He also needed to use the bathroom. He tried to move Yuuri as softly as he could, but ended up waking him up.

He chuckled when the boy squinted. Soon his glasses found their spot on his cute nose and Yuuri smiled like a kid receiving a present. He kissed Victor’s jaw and the Russian shivered, returning the attention with a kiss on his nose, and finally their lips met. Yuuri cringed and laughed.

“I’m going to brush my teeth,” he muttered. “We can continue later?” His eyes shone with hope.

Victor nodded and watched him leave, unable to stop the fluttering in his stomach. He followed soon after, finding out it was almost midday already. Yuuri wasn’t in the bathroom anymore; he probably went to the dorm to get dressed. Chris however was standing there with a grin on his face after coming back from the rink, if his tracksuit was any indication.

“Slept well?” he teased and Victor’s ears flushed pink.

“Sorry, you snore so I had to find another room.”

“I was going to ask who spent the night with you but I have my answer. He really is the cutest boy in the world, you weren’t exaggerating.”

“We kissed, nothing else,” he said, then washed his face.

“You still look like you had the best fuck of your life.”

Victor threw his towel at his face but smiled.

“It was just as good.”

“Ha! Yeah, I guess I don’t understand what it means to be so in love. Don’t get all sappy on me okay?”

The towel was thrown back at him.

“You’re limping a bit,” Chris observed next, eyes twinkling.

“I fell and twisted my ankle. It’s okay, I’m taking it easy today.”

“Why must you ruin my sexy mental images?”

“I told you we didn’t do anything!”

“Let a man dream.”

“Don’t picture him that way.”

“Oooh, jealous?”

He didn’t really think about it until now, but yes, he would be a jealous lover. He trusted himself to keep it reasonable, or Yuuri wouldn’t like it. He also wondered if the boy would feel the same, and the idea of a possessive Yuuri aroused him. He excused himself. Chris was still laughing when Victor sat in the lounge to work on some ideas for his programs. He grabbed a quick lunch, then was joined by the Swiss once again.

They talked about their respective results at Worlds, Victor asked about his plans for the season and they laughed together at Chris’ latest encounter with rabid fangirls. They were almost as crazy as Victor’s fans, but showed more skin. Chris was always flashed. Victor, who cultivated an aura of mystery and innocence with his long hair and pretty face, was still free of that kind of attention. Mostly. His programs didn’t scream sexuality, there was no rumor about him dating anyone. Yuuri was the only one he flirted with in years, so no one could call him a playboy and prove their claim.

“Think he’s the one?” Chris asked when the conversation shifted to Victor’s love life.

He sighed.

“I hope so. It certainly feels like it.”

“Invite me to the wedding. So, how is it going to work? You’re in Russia, he’s in Japan, long distance sucks and you know it.”

“Very helpful.”

“You’re welcome. Do you even know what he wants to do?”

Yuuri had told him he wanted to go to University. A skater’s career was short and he needed a good backup plan, especially since at the moment he didn’t have the slightest future on the ice, not without a coach. He shared the information with his friend.

“You think he’d move to Russia if he found a coach here?”

“I hope he would. I can’t really ask Yakov to move to Japan so…”

“Okay, then you have homework! Find a coach for him, help him look up online courses for his degree and live happily ever after in St. Petersburg! I’ll be your best man, too.”

As much as he liked the idea, Victor wasn’t blind, it was much too soon to plan something like that. Yuuri would finish high school in March, so it gave them some time to sort things out and see if they could still stand each other a few months down the line. The Russian wanted the boy to live with him. It wasn’t a viable plan. Yuuri’s parents would most likely disagree. But all this depended heavily on money, something the Katsuki family might not have. Yuuri’s pride would never allow him to help. If he knew where the anonymous donations came from, he would faint. Still, Victor hoped.

Lost in his thoughts, he was startled by a kiss on his left cheek. Chris’ eyes grew comically wide, and Yuuri snuggled on the beanbag with the Russian skater. 

“Yuuriiii!”

The boy yelped and giggled in the crushing hug that followed. 

“Hi,” he said with a smirk. He was wearing his black and blue tracksuit. It suited him. Victor loosened his grip on him and ignored Chris, who whistled and winked. 

He brushed his nose against Yuuri’s, looked for any sign of discomfort in his eyes and kissed him when he found none. Yuuri parted his lips. Another surprise. The Swiss said something he didn’t hear properly, because he forgot the world around him with the first, almost inaudible whimper Yuuri let out. 

It was a clumsy first step in a new territory for the Japanese, yet Victor couldn’t get enough of it. It was cute and Yuuri was eager to learn. 

They were interrupted by Yurio’s exclamation of disgust and Yakov’s fury. Perhaps they shouldn’t have done that in the lounge. Neither cared if they were seen however. 

They parted. Blushing, Yuuri hid his face in the crook of his neck and Victor grinned at his coach. The child muttered insults and grabbed a coloring book. He sat near them and angrily filled a page with red and black markers.

"Vitya, with me.”

When Yakov spoke this way, Victor had no choice. He shrugged, kissed Yuuri’s nose and followed the older man. When he glanced behind him, Yuuri was drawing with a much calmer Yurio and Chris pretended to be fascinated by a bird outside the window.

Both men sat in the office. Yakov seemed to be suffering greatly, but it wasn’t an unusual sight.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” he spoke, gritting his teeth, breaking the heavy silence between them.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not against the rules to kiss someone.”

“Don’t play dumb. You’re a guest, you can’t touch a participant.”

“Maybe you should have told me that before you dragged me here. I didn’t have sex with him.”

“Not yet, you mean.”

Victor wondered if the pulsing vein on Yakov’s forehead would burst one day and if he would be there to witness it.

“Listen,” the older man continued, sounding exhausted, “I know he’s old enough, that’s not the problem, and I don’t care what you do in bed. I’m asking you to keep… whatever this is… as secret as you can. I’m sure you’re not playing with his feelings either, because I know you. But this kid is here because of your father and this camp will not be the last thing he receives from him. Don’t screw things up. We might have a NDA, but the kids will still talk, even by accident, and you don’t want him to start his career with a label on his forehead. If he’s seen with you here, and if it gets out, people will end up finding out how much Yulian helped and the media will have a field day. People will say he made it this far because he shares your bed. You don’t want that.”

Most of these words went right over Victor’s head, but his interest was piqued.

“What do you mean, not the last thing he receives?”

“DID YOU EVEN LISTEN TO ME?”

“I did! I’ll keep my hands off in public for now, but I’m still going to spend time with him. So, what things?”

“Victor-”

“To be honest, we’ll make headlines at some point, but I’ll humor you for the duration of the camp. Maybe.”

The vein grew. Amused, Victor imagined what it would be like once Yurio joined his group of students. He couldn’t wait. Entertainment at its finest. He wasn’t satisfied though, and insisted to know his father’s plans.

When he was finally asked to leave, it took all of his self control to keep himself from cuddling with Yuuri, and from telling him about the list of coaches Yulian was looking into for him. Yakov said they all worked in St. Petersburg. Of course, Yuuri wouldn’t be accepted by any of them if he didn’t show promises, but with the kind of step sequences he could master, Victor had no fear.

 

 

*

  
  
  
  


Yuuri started joining Victor in the second guest dorm every night, sneaking out after the other boys were asleep and avoiding the guards, random staff members and guests who sometimes hung out in the lounge or cafeteria. Chris and Johan had left already, replaced by a few retired skaters who had all won an Olympic medal in their career. They barely spoke to Victor, so the young man was more than happy to move his belongings to the dusty, smaller room and have the space to himself.

There was no window on the ceiling here, but he had something else to look at. Yuuri always fell asleep quickly, but not before kissing him, and by the end of the week, the Russian knew how he sounded when he moaned. He knew the skin of his back and chest was smooth and soft, he knew Yuuri had a tiny mole on his right hip and a small scar on his neck. He also knew he got hard easily. The younger boy liked to press his body against his, straddle him and grab his hair possessively when they kissed and it made Victor swoon and melt. He wondered what made him decide to be so bold, when he was so shy most of the time. Sometimes he would just stop and seem to realize what he was doing, then try to hide. He seemed to be constantly battling between his desires and his reason. Victor never pushed him unless he saw an opening.

The next opening offered to him happened on a Friday night. Yuuri was reading a comic book taken from the lounge, sitting on the mattress in his boxers, a low cut shirt too big for him showing his right shoulder. It was one of Victor’s favourite shirts. Victor took in the sight, then crawled behind him and nibbled on his neck, quickly finding a sensitive spot. The sigh that followed sent a jolt through his body. Yuuri threw his head back, resting it on Victor’s shoulder. His expression was one the Russian had only imagined so far. Eyes shut, lips parted, he was gorgeous.

It was incredible how fast desire could vanish when a certain blond kid decided to make his presence known by stomping on the floor. 

Victor groaned and Yuuri scrambled to cover his shoulder. Yurio was carrying his pillow and sleeping bag, and he was pouting. Victor knew Yuuri and the kid slept side by side now, so he must have been feeling left out when he woke up alone.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said, and Victor wasn’t sure who he was talking to. 

Yurio climbed on the bed and started preparing a spot to sleep next to his friend, who gave a quick kiss to Victor and lay down. The Russian man admired his gentleness when it came to Yurio. He knew the child needed to sleep and shouldn’t have woken up at all, so he sacrificed his own evening to ensure he wouldn’t feel abandoned. He almost cooed at the sight.

Turning off the lights, he slipped under the sleeping bag and happily pressed his body against Yuuri’s back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating went up because Yuuri is adventurous.  
> 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor is quick to forget what Yakov said, and things get spicy in the private dorm, enjoy :P

Yuuri and Yurio made piroshki for Victor when they spent their second weekend together and the silver-haired man was so grateful that he sacrificed an entire afternoon of practice to prepare katsudon for his beloved. Helped by the cook, he did his best and only burnt the pork once. When he had everything ready, he asked both Yurio and the Japanese to join him and share the meal, interrupting their skating a bit earlier than usual.

Yuuri told him it was almost as good as his mom’s and he wasn’t lying. Even Yurio found nothing to criticize. After this, the kid even accepted (reluctantly, if his everlasting pout was any indication of it) to leave the lovebirds alone in their dusty dorm. He clung to Yuuri more than ever the rest of the time though. It didn’t bother the older boy; he really enjoyed the child’s presence. But he had to admit he had been looking forward to more privacy ever since Victor left a purple kiss mark on his shoulder. He kept wondering what would have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted.

Since he left with Yurio the next morning and had to wait several days until the blonde chose to leave them alone, he was becoming impatient. He focused on his skating to forget that he craved Victor’s lips on his skin, turning his movements sexier without realizing it until he noticed his idol staring, flustered and fidgety. He discovered he loved making him lose control. How would he look if Yuuri decided to be adventurous after these frustrating nights? He wanted to pull on his hair like he did last week, because it reduced the man to a shivering mess and it meant he was doing something right. He wanted Victor to find sweet spots unknown to himself so he could also melt in his arms. 

Victor made him feel wanted and sexy, a far cry from his usual restrained self, and perhaps what he always wanted to be. Confidence felt good. The Russian was a magician, his mere presence managing to bring out everything Yuuri was too ashamed to think about outside of his bedroom. He often wished he was brave enough to act in situations he would normally avoid (even something as simple as sending a fan letter to Victor before he knew him). The first smile Victor directed at him broke the walls of Yuuri’s mind. He was still quiet, and he still didn’t like talking to people he didn’t know, but behind closed doors he wasn’t judged, there was only Victor.

If Victor left him after the camp… Yuuri didn’t want to think about what would happen. He would probably never trust anyone ever again, and build a new, stronger shell around his heart. He believed he just had to make sure the young man never wanted to let go of him.

He needed to be good enough on the ice, first, so he practiced with a renewed concentration. By now, he had no particular trouble with his triple jumps, but despite Xavier, Victor and some of the coaches’ help, he still struggled with the only quad he attempted so far (a toe loop). He needed time alone with a trainer: when he fell, his stress made the next jump worse because he knew the other skaters were watching.

The first time he landed it properly, he was alone with Victor. The older boy joked that Yurio’s offer to let them sleep together without him as a chaperone helped; after all, the sooner he landed it, the quicker they could go to the dorm.

They were there now, door locked behind them, stomach full and hair wet. and the atmosphere was quite different from the previous days. Yuuri’s heart was beating too fast. Victor noticed his unease and stopped folding the laundry he retrieved after his shower, crossing the distance between them until they embraced each other.

“Why are you just standing there?” he whispered.

Yuuri relaxed, his nose buried in the crook of his neck, and closed his eyes. It was still too early for anyone to be sleeping but he could easily ignore the voices and laughter coming from the nearby lounge.

“I keep thinking about stuff,” he replied, his voice just as low as Victor’s.

“What kind?”

He bit his lips. He might be somewhat daring with his hands and body, but words still weren’t his strong point. Victor lifted the boy’s chin so he could look him in the eye. He kissed his forehead, his temples, his cheeks, his nose and his chin, and let Yuuri decide to meet his mouth, which he was more than happy to do.

“What are we?” Yuuri finally asked, short of breath.

“Mh, do you want to put a label on us? We can do that. Will you be my boyfriend, Yuuri?”

He almost giggled, not because his cheerful tone sounded ridiculous, just because the man of his dreams was asking the question he would always say yes to. His feelings for him were much stronger now than they had been two weeks ago. Victor had done his best to show him who he really was. Yuuri loved the real him. The dork who sometimes laughed so hard he accidentally snorted. The idiot who, when he thought no one was watching, practiced some ridiculously exaggerated version of a ballet routine. The adorable young man who was so patient with the younger participants, on and off the ice, who talked to his dog in a silly voice and who drooled in his sleep. Kissing him, he hoped it would convey his answer. 

“I want to take pictures together,” he murmured against his lips, “so I can replace the posters in my room with the real you, is that okay?”

“More than okay, and I’ll do the same. Not that I have anything to replace.”

They chuckled, and kissed again, but it was different now, hotter. It reminded Yuuri of the hair-pulling episode, and as he welcomed Victor’s tongue into his mouth, he moaned.

Hands found their way under their shirts and discarded them on the floor. Skin against skin for the first time, their fingers traveled everywhere they could reach. Victor sucked on his neck; Yuuri gasped. He could feel him harden against his body, only separated by training pants and underwear. It made him dizzy. He found himself on his back without knowing how he got there, Victor sat on his thighs, kissing him hungrily before nipping at his collarbones and caressing his ribs. Yuuri arched his body to be closer to him, short nails digging into the older boy’s back. Warmth pooled in his abdomen. Slowly, afraid to take things too far, too quickly, he tried to roll his hips.

Victor stopped what he was doing. His eyes were dark when he looked at him. Lips reddened and hair messily framing his flushed face, it was such an erotic sight that the Japanese could only move his hips again and pull the older skater closer. He felt him respond to his movements, the friction new and breathtaking. He drowned the sounds they both made with yet another passionate kiss.

Victor didn’t move after they both went over the edge. Yuuri found he adored the feeling of his weight on his chest. 

He was so happy he wanted to laugh and squeeze his lover tightly. Instead, he smiled, looking at the blurry ceiling and wondering where his glasses were. He played with Victor’s hair, hearing a cute sigh of appreciation in return.

“Did you like it?” the Russian asked softly.

Yuuri hummed in agreement.

“I’m glad… Yuuri?”

“Mh?”

“We should clean our pants.”

He laughed. It might have destroyed the mood, but not in a bad way. They could still cuddle when they came back from the bathroom.

 

 

*

 

 

If he didn’t count Victor, Xavier and Yurio, Yuuri only had two friends, and it had been that way for as long as he could remember. Yuuko was always there for him; it took longer to accept Takeshi after the insults he threw at him when they were kids. Now, as he noticed the bright colors of a rose bush outside, he remembered the older boy mocking romance movies and sappy novels, and he smirked. The world was the same, and it was different at the same time. There was some truth to these love stories. Sporting a stupid grin and sighing helplessly in the wind was definitely part of that truth. Yurio learned two new words he could now use to call the older skater: lovesick idiot. It seemed to delight him that he could also call Victor that. Fortunately for him, being dreamy and happy didn’t prevent Yuuri from spending time with the kid.

They were at the rink, taking a break with the other boys while the girls had the ice to themselves. The reason why Yuuri didn’t listen to anything Xavier or Yurio said for the past ten minutes was that Victor was busy teaching a jump to a determined Mila, and he was too handsome for words. The teenager eventually paid attention to the other boys when Yurio bit his arm.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, surprised - it didn’t hurt, just a small pinch. 

Yurio acted like he hadn’t done anything and ate a cracker. Xavier laughed.

“Your boyfriend won’t vanish if you stop looking, you know.”

Of course he knew. He just wanted to keep watching because the fact that Victor was  _ his _ made him feel warm and fuzzy.

“Remember Johan?” the French skater continued and Yuuri nodded. “He lives in St. Petersburg because his wife is Russian. He’s retiring after Worlds and he asked if I wanted him as a coach. He has his license. I was thinking I’d do it. You should too. He doesn’t want to take on too many people but he was really impressed by your step sequences.”

St.Petersburg? He glanced at Victor again. Could he, really? 

“I don’t speak Russian,” he said, but he already knew it wouldn’t be an issue, because Xavier didn’t know the language either.

“That doesn’t matter. Did you have another plan?”

He bit his lower lip and raised a thoughtful gaze to the ceiling.

“I want to study,” he answered. “I thought, maybe in the US, but if I can take online courses I can be anywhere. I want to find a coach, and I want to skate against Victor one day.”

“Well, if Johan accepts you, we can be roommates! I’ll move there after the season when I finish high school. You finish earlier, right?”

“In March.”

“I finish in June. I’ll give you a copy of my contract and Johan’s credentials. Check with your parents and let me know!”

He winced. His parents. They would end up discovering he was in a relationship, with a man - with Victor, and oh how strange that sounded - and he was a bit scared of their reaction. Would they let him move so close to him? He would be eighteen by then, but he would still be their little Yuuri. They always supported him no matter what. He just hoped they would agree this time too. If he had a proper coach, he could move to the senior division, and with hard work and dedication, he could get sponsors and help them with the costs of living abroad.

Preoccupied, he let Yurio sit on his lap while Xavier told him all about the international school he would be enrolling into and what he was looking forward to experience in his future life abroad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked on Twitter if the camp would be all there is to the story, no it won't. The camp is ending in the next chapter, or the next next one. We'll follow our lovebirds for a long time after that. Don't be worried about Phichit, Xavier isn't replacing him :P he'll just take his sweet time to appear.
> 
> I caught up with the chapters I had already written so we'll see what I can do during my travel :P see you all soon!


	11. Chapter 11

Two notable events happened during the last week of the camp: Yurio accidentally landed a triple salchow and promptly fell on his ass in shock, and Yuuri, under Victor’s guidance, landed not only his quad toe loop, but also a quad salchow, although his leg wobbled and he couldn’t do it again afterwards. Despite Yakov’s warnings, everyone but the novices (with the exception of Yurio) knew that Victor and Yuuri were dating, because not only had Yuuri stopped pretending to fall asleep in the dorm downstairs before sneaking out, but he was also seen napping on Victor’s lap more than once, and walking hand in hand in the village. The boys didn’t care, the girls gossiped, and they were both aware that it would indeed get out, just like Yakov said. If it wasn’t a kid who talked, it would be someone else.

Yuuri talked to his boyfriend about Xavier’s idea, and while Victor had cringed at the mention of Johan, he had been more than excited at the prospect of living in the same city, and had grown even clingier. This meant he completely forgot his discussion with Yakov and by the time he remembered, it was too late. So, after a long, cringe-worthy meeting in the office, Victor found Yuuri at the pool having fun with his new friends. There was more staff present than necessary, and the young man needed to speak to his beloved in private. Since Yuuri seemed to be having fun, he swam by himself then rested in the hot tub. While he waited for him, he thought about the whirlwind that had been his life recently.

Yuuri was the missing piece in his soul and he would never let him go. He thought Yuuri was endearing, beautiful and gentle. Part of him wished he could be as confident on the ice as he was in bed, but another hoped no one would ever see this Yuuri, so he could be the only one to witness his smirks and winks. 

He loved watching him interact with Yurio and he loved hearing him laugh. He sighed, reminiscing the way his eyes glimmered when he was lost in his thoughts. There were too many things he admired about the boy, making a list would take a lifetime. He had been on edge at the start, unwilling to push him too far but communication between them was excellent, and they didn’t necessarily need words. He knew when to stop. As surprising as it seemed to both of them, they were open books for each other yet Yuuri still impressed him every day. That pull on his hair… Victor never knew he was into that before Yuuri tried.

He briefly hid his face in the bubbles and tried to banish the memory. He really didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of everyone. Yuuri might be the youngest in their relationship but Victor felt like he was back in middle school, struggling with the start of puberty and his first crush, even though his feelings for Yuuri couldn’t compare with anything he had experienced before. 

“Hi Vitya.”

He raised his eyes, heart singing at the nickname. Yuuri entered the tub, muttering something about his family’s hot springs being much hotter and much better, then grabbing his hand underwater and leaning against him. Yakov was probably raging nearby. Whoever tried to push them apart right now would have a tough time, as they had less than twenty-four hours left in the Cube. Yuuri’s grip on his hand was telling.

“Can we skype when you get home?” Victor asked, voice thick with emotion. He didn’t expect it to sound that way.

“I’ll text you before that.”

“Won’t it be too expensive?”

Yuuri nodded but said it would be worth it.

“Then we just do that when we don’t have a choice,” the Russian proposed. “I don’t want to spend too many hours without news, even if it’s just an emoji, but I don’t want you to have a huge phone bill.”

He kissed the tip of his nose and Yuuri blushed so fast it made him coo.

“I can’t wait too long either,” the boy murmured, before standing up and dragging him out of the tub. “Your fingers feel all pruny, how long did you stay in there?”

“I was lost in your cuteness.”

Yuuri squeaked but didn’t let go of his hand. They walked to the locker room, took a quick shower and put on their tracksuits. This would be their last time on the ice together during the camp, and given how many people were now swimming, Victor believed the rink would be empty. He was right.

He helped Yuuri lace his skates despite his protests, because he enjoyed taking care of him. They took some time to warm up, more than necessary due to the interruptions their kisses and playful jabs provoked, then Victor chose a melody from his skating playlist. Yuuri seemed to recognize it. Of course he would. An old program he had practiced on his own, just like the one he performed for the contest.

“Do you know this one?” the Russian asked, and Yuuri nodded. “Sweet! It’s special to me. It’s the first one I choreographed myself and I dedicated it to the person I was hoping to hold in my arms one day. I didn’t know who they were or if someone even existed just for me, but I found him now.”

He wrapped his arms around the dark-haired teen. He knew by now that Yuuri hid his face when his emotions overwhelmed him. Feeling his nose against his neck, he choose to let him calm down, but Yuuri soon moved and gave him a searing kiss that left him breathless.

The music, put on repeat, started again when his mind was clear enough to stop blushing.

They didn’t need to talk; they skated this five-year-old routine, marking the jumps as all they wanted was dance together, not impress anyone. Yuuri’s footwork was mesmerizing. There was something new in the way he moved and if Victor had to name it, he would say it was freedom. The boy smiled, sometimes closing his eyes yet never missing a step, and he was floating.

Victor mirrored his performance, adding spins and affectionate gestures that Yuuri was quick to respond to, even dipping him while the Russian trusted him completely. For two men who had never skated with a partner before, they worked incredibly well together. 

The music was still going, repeating once again, when they stopped in the middle of the rink, cradling each other’s face between their fingers. Yuuri’s smile brightened the entire rink. Victor felt lightheaded.

“God, Yuuri, I love you.”

His smile widened. He moved even closer, and in a barely audible whisper, returned the words that made them both melt. 

They left the ice and Victor noticed Yuuri’s fingers were shaking when he untied his skates. Once himself had his feet back in his trainers, he was pushed against the wall, lips locked with his lover’s, whose frantic moans drove him crazy. He loved it, just as much as hair pulling. Yuuri taking control was unbelievably sexy, and incredibly hard to resist.

His head met the wall with a loud  _ thud _ but he didn’t mind one bit: Yuuri was now nibbling at his neck, his hands under his shirt. Feeling him harden, he lowered himself and grabbed his thighs, lifting him and turning around. Yuuri giggled and gasped, his legs and arms holding onto him. Victor marked his collarbone. If he trusted his boyfriend’s whimpers, feeling him suck on a bruise was exactly what he wanted. He then let the boy fall back on his feet and kneeled down.

He really wanted to do this. The deep brown of Yuuri’s eyes was almost overtaken by the darkness of his blown pupils. Carefully, the Russian asked for permission, his hands kneading the fabric of the younger boy’s trousers.

He knew he would be rusty. It had been years. He also knew Yuuri wouldn’t care. As he took in the sight of him and gently ran his fingers over his skin, he thought his heart might leap out of his chest. He kept his gaze on his face and touched him, listening to his breathing, loving how he bit his lower lip to keep himself quiet. He drank the restrained mentions of his name, the surprised and elated exclamations he let out as he tasted him. Yuuri sang his pleasure in the best way possible.

He wondered how he had even lived before seeing him come, and by the time he was done Yuuri was a quivering, amazing mess, legs too weak to support him as he clung to Victor’s neck. The older man didn’t need any help; the sight and sounds had been powerful enough.

 

 

*

 

  
  


He knew it would be hard but he didn’t think it would feel like grief. Perhaps he was being dramatic. His father always said he was the very definition of drama. Yurio certainly told him so, but started bawling shortly after and didn’t even flinch when Victor hugged him. Yuuri had been one of the first skaters to leave, his flight being early in the afternoon. While he had put on a brave face in front of everyone, Victor’s mother, who drove him to his pick up spot, told her son he had cried in the car. It made him feel worse. If only he could go with him.

It was late now and Yuuri had stopped using the airport’s wifi to send him messages on facebook a while ago. Victor stayed behind in the Cube, now empty, making sure no one left anything behind and turning off the lights everywhere he went. The cleaning staff would come by later. He thought about hitching a ride with his mom, but decided to drown himself in practice instead of taking a few days off, and he suffered through Yakov’s horrendous musical selection for hours, sometimes taking the wheel so his coach could rest. 

It was 2 AM when he opened the door to his apartment, exhausted, Makkachin rushing inside, glad to find his toys again. Victor checked his phone, staring at the brand new wallpaper, a selfie he took in the morning when Yuuri was still sleeping with his lips on the Russian’s neck. He was running out of storage space on his device now. He wondered if Yuuri was also smiling while looking at his own wallpaper, which Victor knew was of them hugging each other from behind. There were two pictures on both their phones, that they would need to save on a computer, preferably in a hidden folder. While they didn’t show anything shocking, the thought of Yuuri’s parents seeing them kissing in bed, obviously naked,  or seeing their son straddling the older boy who licked his Adam’s apple, was not pleasant. Victor hoped he could one day take many more sexy pictures with him, as Yuuri didn’t seem to mind. But for now he could only wait.

He didn’t bother opening his suitcase. He took a boiling hot shower to get rid of the stiffness in his limbs after so many hours stuck in a car. The heat helped ease his longing, exhausting him even more, and he was asleep as soon as his body touched the bed. 

He woke up at dawn, freezing despite the time of the year, wishing Yuuri’s body could warm him up - he had gotten used to it - and because he thought about him, it took him an hour to fall asleep again. He just couldn’t help imagining him in his apartment. Would he like it? It was tiny, a rental Victor chose to get out of his parents home. It wasn’t supposed to be permanent; what if he and Yuuri chose one together?

Even Makkachin seemed to think his human was crazy, because he turned around on the sheets and Victor found himself facing his butt.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor boys, no Whatsapp for them yet. Anyway, HI :P I'm still fighting the jetlag a little bit, and since it's raining today I decided to write. As a transition chapter it's not the best, but now you can look forward to long-distance silliness!
> 
> I would like to reassure you all, the katsudon piroshki in Namja Town didn't kill [@lucycamui](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lucycamui) and I even though it was a very weird combination that didn't taste like piroshki... or katsudon. I do recommend you check out her wonderful, totally appropriate ["Cream on Yuuri" work of art](https://twitter.com/forth3written/status/847288433584201728)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a text/FB messaging/email only chapter. I was so busy this week I could only write it like that but it works for long distance.

August

 

**Victor**

I miss you

 

**Yuuri**

me too. And Makkachin and Yurio. I can’t sleep.

 

**Victor**

Jetlag?

 

**Yuuri**

No… just no Victor

 

**Victor**

*o*

 

August

 

**Yuuri**

Wish you could try my mom’s katsudon

 

**Victor**

Will you make it for me?

 

August

 

**Victor**

My interview today was about what’s usually in my pockets and what my morning routine is… WHY. Are fans really that interested in that?

 

**Yuuri**

You bet. Little silly facts that bring you closer to them? The best

 

**Victor**

Yuuuuuuri

Speaking for yourself? :3:3:3

 

**Yuuri**

My favourite was when you took a journalist to your favourite spots in St. Petersburg

 

**Victor**

Ooh I remember that one. That’s old. I’ll take you to these places, and more. I can’t wait.

 

**Yuuri**

I don’t even know if I’m coming yet!

 

**Victor**

You’re breaking my heart!

 

**Yuuri**

I’d kiss you if you were here

 

**Victor**

T_T I need you so badly right now

 

August

 

**Yuuri**

I love you

 

**Victor**

!!!

 

**Yuuri**

:3 thought you’d like to read this when you woke up

 

**Victor**

YUURIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

August

 

**Victor**

MY PHONE DIED OMG

NOBODY WANTED TO HELP!

 

**Yuuri**

:( you don’t have a computer?

 

**Victor**

….

 

**Yuuri**

?

 

**Victor**

It… died. It wasn’t as urgent so I didn’t buy a new one

 

**Yuuri**

Go buy one now, you have money

I know you’re going to buy that collector’s edition thing, you liked it and it appeared on your wall. Buy a computer instead.

 

**Victor**

If Chris could read this he’d make a whipping sound

 

**Yuuri**

I’d rather pull your hair

 

**Victor**

...I’m getting a computer with a webcam

 

**Yuuri**

*o*

 

August

 

_ Dear Yuri, _

 

_ I know you can’t read English well yet, so I’m sending you pictures of my home and my rink. There are stickers too and a desk calendar with cats. They’re fat and flat, they’re funny. The days are in Japanese. I wrote down what they are on the first page. _

_ I hope you’re doing well in school. I wish you good luck for your competition next week! _

_ Say hi to your grandpa for me. _

_ Yuuri #1 _

 

August

 

**_Postcard of Moscow, with Yuri scribbled at the back and a drawing of a fat and flat cat on skates_ **

 

August

 

**Victor**

Yurio won gold!

 

**Yuuri**

!!

 

**Victor**

I’ll send him a gift, I’ll tell him it’s from both of us

 

**Yuuri**

Yes! 

 

September

 

**Yuuri**

Congrats on the silver medal!

 

**Xavier**

Hey Yuuri, thanks! Better end my Junior days on the podium, heh

 

**Yuuri**

Rooting for you! I’m sure you’ll make it to the finale.

 

September

 

**Yuuri**

I landed the quad salchow again!

 

**Victor**

I’m proud of you!

 

**Yuuri**

(video)

 

**Victor**

! Nice! It’s almost perfect, your leg shook a bit when you landed but you can correct it

(dat ass though)

 

**Yuuri**

Thanks! I’ll do my best! My ballet instructor says I shouldn’t train more of those, what do you think?

( -_- )

 

**Victor**

Yakov would love me for that: listen to her. You need someone who knows what they’re doing or you’ll learn wrong from the start.

(hey, I’m just admiring what’s mine)

 

**Yuuri**

You didn’t claim it yet

 

**Victor**

xD Yuuri!

Is that an invitation

 

**Yuuri**

What do you think? If I move to Russia I’m not coming over to your place to knit scarves

 

**Victor**

I’d love a handmade scarf

 

**Yuuri**

I can’t knit

 

**Victor**

Aww

But seriously what did you do with shy little Yuuri

 

**Yuuri**

He still exists, just not with you. It’s easier with a screen between us too

 

**Victor**

That makes it hard to find a pet name for you. Sweet Yuuri could be lots of cute things, confident Yuuri means I’m the one you should call baby or something

 

**Yuuri**

… 

that… I don’t know if I could

 

**Victor**

You can pull my hair and fuck my mouth but you can’t call me sweetheart?

 

**Yuuri**

OMG HOW DO YOU DELETE A FB CONVERSATION

 

**Victor**

^_^ I have a webcam ;)

 

**Yuuri**

My parents are home

 

**Victor**

They’re always home they work there

 

**Yuuri**

The walls are like paper! Well actually they ARE paper

 

**Victor**

Bite your pillow, you’ll be fine

But not now, I’m at the rink, my break is over.

I love you, my Yuuri

 

September

 

**Victor**

Done sulking?

 

**Yuuri**

Yeah

I’m sorry

 

**Victor**

I’m sorry too

I shouldn’t have used that kind of language

It was inappropriate

 

**Yuuri**

I forgive you

 

**Victor**

I feel so comfortable with you that I forget myself

 

**Yuuri**

I could say the same. I didn’t really hate it either

I’m just scared someone will find our texts

 

**Victor**

Even if someone does

I’m not saying I’d like it. I’d be pretty pissed off, but I’m your boyfriend

I don’t think there is anything wrong with what I said, only that it wasn’t welcome at that moment

 

**Yuuri**

(picture of him blushing and biting his lower lip)

 

**Victor**

(picture of him, hair braided, with a sweet smile and a wink as he drinks tea, looking like he woke up recently)

 

**Yuuri**

I miss you so much

 

**Victor**

Me too, my sun

 

September

 

**Yuuri**

Hi love

What’s this neighborhood like? (link)

 

**Victor**

Hi sunshine

Mh it’s okay. Students. Convenient with public transports. Noisy on the weekend.

 

**Yuuri**

I could spend the weekends at your place…

 

**Victor**

*o*

Is that what I think it is?

 

**Yuuri**

Johan sent me a contract and I looked into online courses

 

**Victor**

So… you’re actually coming?

 

**Yuuri**

I didn’t sign anything yet

I mean there is a coach in the US who reached out to me through the JSF, he said he heard about my step sequences after the camp and would be interested

 

**Victor**

Cialdini? Yakov told me he spoke to him about you

 

**Yuuri**

Yes

I’m scared it’d be a mistake to move to Russia if I can have him teach me. Johan didn’t get any recognition as a coach, he’s only one on paper for now. University might also be better

 

**Victor**

I’ll support you whatever you choose

 

**Yuuri**

Vitya, you’re the best :3 can you call me? I want to speak with you

 

**Victor**

My break is over

 

**Yuuri**

Are you angry?

 

**Yuuri**

Vitya?

 

**Yuuri**

??

 

**Yuuri**

Are you there?

 

September

 

**Yuuri**

Do you know Chris’ phone number or private social media accounts?

 

**Xavier**

+41xxxxxxxxx , why?

 

**Yuuri**

Victor isn’t replying to me

 

**Xavier**

What happened?

 

**Yuuri**

I’m not sure. I was telling him about Johan and Celestino, then I asked him to call me and he just cut the conversation and didn’t come back online

He doesn’t reply to his texts either

 

**Xavier**

Maybe he lost his phone?

 

**Yuuri**

I don’t think that’s it

Anyway, thanks, I think Chris is my best bet

 

**Xavier**

np, crossing my fingers for you

 

September

 

**Yuuri**

Hi, this is Yuuri Katsuki. I was at Yakov’s summer camp. Victor’s boyfriend. I’m sorry for bothering you but do you know where he is?

 

**Chris**

Oh the cutie with the godly thighs! Hi!

 

**Yuuri**

-_-

 

**Chris**

Let me guess. Trouble in paradise.

 

**Yuuri**

Maybe

 

**Chris**

Victor has been moping for three days. Stayed holed up in his room, didn’t go to the rink, nothing. Yakov called me yesterday because I’m the only one that idiot talks to. So… basically he feels horrible because he said he’ll support your decision if you move to Detroit but he lied to you. He can’t actually support it. He’s lovesick. 

 

**Yuuri**

What do I do??

 

**Chris**

It’s your future. As cute as you both are, and as much as I’d like to believe in eternal love, you’re a teenager and you might get tired of him. If that happens, be sure you won’t regret choosing Russia over the US

You need to talk to him. Send him an email, because he still reads those. He needs to know you understand him. You guys were doing so well, communication and all, and now he’s being stupid, but you can fix it. Let me know how it goes!

 

September

 

_ Dear Vitya, _

 

_ I thought I said it enough, but now I find out I didn’t, so: I love you. I don’t think our relationship is weak because we’re apart, and I don’t think it’s easy either. I think about you all the time. You’re with me everywhere. You said I was a missing piece in your heart, well I think I was missing something too. Anyone would snort at my message. Saying I’m too young, I’ll change my mind, I’m blinded by my feelings and maybe I am, but I want a future with you. _

_ I don’t see myself becoming a successful skater. At first I believed I didn’t deserve to be looked at by you and I’m so glad I was wrong. Even if I never make it to Worlds or the GPF or anywhere important, I know you’ll love me. _

_ I understand I hurt you. Looking up places to live in St Petersburg gave you the wrong signal and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have given you hope. I know I crushed it. Please forgive me. _

_ I attached a few documents to this email. I hope you won’t feel guilty after seeing them. I know you’ll think I chose Russia because we just had a fight. I didn’t. I chose it because it will not hurt my career (if I ever have one) or my studies. Celestino recommended Johan. I called him earlier. And I can’t lie, I need you, and since it’s not irresponsible to move there, I’ll be living near you in April. _

_ Please don’t ignore me anymore. I can’t wait to see you. My parents still don’t know about you but they know I’ll probably room with Xavier so they’re pretty happy about it. Maybe one day I’ll be brave enough to tell them. _

_ I love you so much. Call me as soon as you can. I’ll be up late. _

  
_ Your Yuuri _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soon we should find out the reason why it's best to lock your phone :P


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeskips are starting! Short ones, but still.

After receiving Yuuri’s email, Victor called, and they both cried at their own stupidity, before the conversation turned sappy and mushy as their excitement at the prospect of Yuuri’s move to Russia couldn’t be contained anymore. They cried again, this time from relief and happiness, and because they missed each other so much.

It had been two weeks since then. Yuuri would be lying if he said he didn’t feel stressed out. Sometimes, when he tried learning basic Russian, he realized he might have been too hasty; at least, if he went to the US, he could speak the language. He had, so far, never found himself in a situation where English or Japanese didn’t help, and the thought was terrifying. What if Chris was right? What if Victor broke up with him? What if he got tired of Victor? The notion seemed stupid at the moment, but was it, really?

He groaned and walked faster until he reached his house. He was tired. His entire body ached because he just wouldn’t stop practicing until the blisters on his feet bled. He regretted it now, but it wasn’t the first time he suffered for his passion. Sliding the door open, he stepped inside and carefully removed his shoes, the pain flaring up and his socks tinted red. His dog, tiny, adorable Vicchan, was soon cradled against his chest. Yuuri loved him dearly, and he would soon begin the paperwork to bring him to Russia. 

“Welcome back.”

The boy stopped fussing over his pet and met his older sister’s gaze - and it was a cold, hard glare. He flinched. At his reaction, Mari’s icy expression melted into a wide grin. She could be an actress, he thought.

“Come on, I need to talk to you.”

He grumbled and followed her to her room, but froze when he saw his phone on the girl’s desk. 

Mari crossed her arms on her chest.

“It’s good that no one else found it,” she teased. “So… Victor, mh?”

Yuuri felt like someone just dumped a bucket of ice cubes down the back of his shirt.

“Don’t look so scared, most of us guessed you weren’t exactly straight, and I’m glad you got what you wanted. Now, give me the gossip! What was it? One night stand? Or is it serious and you’re moving to his country for him?”

The chill was still there, but Yuuri felt his cheeks heat up and he decided he had nothing to be ashamed of. He stopped looking at his feet, glaring at the woman instead.

“It’s serious.”

“Is it?”

Since when had the wall been so fascinating? So many little cracks and bumps. Perhaps he should count them all. Good plan. 

“Yuuri?”

The wall could wait. He sighed and fidgeted, his dog nuzzling his chest, comfortable in his arms.

“I’ll put a password on my phone,” he grunted. 

“That doesn’t matter, just don’t leave it where random people can find it. If it’s serious between you two, I’ll support you, but if he’s playing with you I’ll come to Russia on foot and he’ll never skate again.”

He just nodded - what else could he do? He was still mortified though; what had she seen? Pictures? Those from the first days of the camp, or the last? Texts? Facebook messages? He didn’t know what was worse, and he wasn’t listening to her anymore. Mari rarely spoke so much unless she was really excited about something and he wasn’t sure he liked it. But she would be their ally and he needed to treasure her trust.

Mumbling under his breath, he walked to his room, and she was still laughing and calling his name when he closed the door.

He glanced around him. His posters, now removed, had marked the tapestry, leaving permanent, light squares everywhere. He was used to it now. Some of them had been replaced with enlarged pictures taken at the camp, the ones that pictured Victor alone, or both of them with Yurio. It was tempting to use more of them, but his parents would ask questions, and Mari might not keep quiet. Thankfully, he was saved from his worries by an email that made his computer wake from its slumber (and reminded him that he should probably turn it off sometimes).

He sat at his desk and smiled, then opened his boyfriend’s message. He barely repressed a squeal.

 

_ Yuuri! The assignements are out! NHK Trophy in November! Can you be there? I’ll come to Hasetsu if you can’t. _

_ Yakov is screaming. I’ll be back. _

_ Love you _

 

_ Victor _

 

NHK Trophy… He looked it up. It was in Nagano this year, and it would be just as annoying and expensive to travel there than if it had been in Tokyo. He checked low cost flights, cringing at the amount - he could pay for an international flight for that price! He then looked up bus itineraries and took a look at the bullet train, and none of those options pleased him, but he couldn’t stand the thought of having Victor so close and not being able to see him. He also couldn’t invite him in Hasetsu, not during a competition.

Another email alert surprised him. It was from the JSF. He frowned. An invitation to the NHK Trophy, all expenses paid. He immediately replied to Victor:

 

_ Congratulations! I can’t wait! _

_ Just a question: did you contact the JSF? I’ve just been invited to Nagano and it’s a weird coincidence… _

_ Yuuri _

  
  


_ My dad did _

_ It’s his way of congratulating me _

_ Victor _

  
  


_ You’re telling me he knows we’re together and has enough power to force the JSF to do his bidding just so his son can see his boyfriend? _

_ Yuuri _

  
  


_ My dad is awesome. _

_Victor_   
  


Yuuri started to laugh. How was this his life? He went through the secret pictures in his hidden folder, like he did each time he talked with his boyfriend, and grinned at each of them, even those that made his heart ache, like the ones taken in bed. Usually, he stopped the slideshow before reaching them, as they often led to dirty tissues being carefully hidden at the bottom of his trashcan, however today it didn’t matter. He locked his door and let out a bittersweet sigh.

How many times had he done this under the frozen eyes of his posters? He imagined the softness of Victor’s hands so much it actually startled him to discover how they truly felt on his skin. Dreams were just dreams; nothing could compare to the weight of the older man on his body, the warmth of his breath, the taste of his lips and the sound of his moans. His Victor was so much better than the one he wanted to touch before meeting him.

November couldn’t come soon enough.

 

 

*

 

_ November _

 

Not only did Yuuri have to share his room with his sister, who was invited as he was a minor, he also ridiculed himself when he ran into an American skater who called him adorable and kissed his cheek, leaving him frozen like a deer in headlights in the main hall of the hotel. Before the boy could understand what happened, Mari dragged him to the elevator. She rose an eyebrow, but only talked when they entered their room (which was a massive twin room overlooking the rink).

“Mind explaining what that was about?” she asked, obviously struggling to keep herself from laughing.

“I-I don’t know! I never met him before!”

“You know what I think? I think your Victor bragged about you.”

And that was a reason to kiss a random stranger? Bewildered, Yuuri looked outside. Mari called their parents to tell them they arrived safe and sound, and while she talked and mocked Yuuri for what just happened downstairs, there was a knock at the door.

The boy found he had trouble breathing when he unlocked it.

Then he seemed to forget how to breathe entirely. When he remembered he needed it to live, his glasses fell and he was crushed in a strong, almost desperate hug. His smile was so wide it almost hurt.

Victor smelled and felt like home. His warmth brought tears to his eyes and Yuuri clung to him like he couldn’t believe he was real; if he let go, he was afraid he’d vanish. Soon his entire face was covered in kisses and he forgot the “surprise” from the American skater. He whimpered, and sought the older boy’s lips, his fingers now lost in his silver hair. 

“I’m still here.”

Yuuri blushed, but when Victor tried to put some distance between them, he grabbed his shirt and flushed himself against him, his gaze dropping. He couldn’t look at his sister, but he certainly couldn’t let go either. Mari rolled her eyes then walked out, greeting Victor with a quick nod.

“I’m going for a smoke. No funny business. I have a key and I won’t knock.”

The door closed behind them, and Yuuri lifted his head. He peered into his partner’s eyes. Had they always been so blue? Victor was smiling so beautifully, looking at him with so much love, that the Japanese could only whisper a barely audible “hi”, before brushing their lips together. Their kiss was sweet and slow, a reminder of how hard it would be to be apart again. They sat on the bed, breaking the kiss only so they could say each other’s name. Soon Yuuri was on his back, Victor laying at his side, his head on his chest.

"Why did I get kissed on the cheek by Johnny Weir?"

Victor laughed.

"He found my phone earlier and asked who you were. Your picture is my lock screen."

"We need to hide our phones a bit better," Yuuri grumbled, amused nonetheless.

“Mh. Can we do that later? I just flew in,” the Russian explained. “Stopover in Tokyo, then flight to Nagano, I’m dead.”

Yuuri kissed the top of his head.

“Yakov will wonder where I am, he might destroy the door once he finds out,” he added.

“Let him. Stay with me,” Yuuri replied, pulling the covers on their bodies. Mari would probably disapprove, or tease him endlessly, but it didn’t matter. He was so comfortable, so happy, he thought he would burst at any moment. He felt the need to cry as well, his emotions, so well contained since summer, now boiling over.

He listened to Victor’s breathing. Mari didn’t come back, not until the moon was high in the sky, and Yuuri drifted to sleep when she turned off the lights, something she did as soon as she realized both boys were still fully clothed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Jetlagged but inspired! Muahahaha!   
> Low costs flights in Japan are a pain. At least they used to be in 2009. Also I would not want to travel from Fukuoka to Nagano in anything else than a bullet train either.


	14. Chapter 14

When Victor woke up the day before the short program, he gasped, having momentarily forgotten where he fell asleep the previous day. But it wasn’t a dream, his Yuuri was right there, holding him in his arms. He knew he probably had dozens of angry voicemails waiting for him, but nothing would break his blissful state. He wondered if it would always feel like this, and he imagined a future where it would happen every morning. Sighing happily, he rose on his elbow and looked at the gorgeous boy who still slept so deeply. He admired his beautiful face, then leaned in and gently placed a trail of kisses along his jaw, his hand pressed under his shirt, and suddenly stopped, a chill running down his spine. Mari. He forgot she was sleeping in the other bed. He hid his disappointment and checked the time, noticing he woke up when needed, used to his fixed schedule. It was too early to bother Yuuri, so he grabbed a pen and the little notepad left by the hotel staff, and wrote a short sentence to meet up later. He added a heart and left it on the nightstand, then quickly exited the room.

As expected, when he reached the rink after breakfast, Yakov was fuming. In true Victor fashion, he gave him a bright smile and waved, then started his warm up routine, humming his free skate music.

“I don’t know what you’re doing but-”

“Yakov, my Yuuri is here!” he interrupted, giddy.

“And tell me how you were going to explain yourself to the press if anyone saw you enter a minor’s room?”

“They never questioned me when I visited Chris before he was eighteen.”

“But you never did anything with him anyway!”

“Well then the press can just imagine I’m playing Monopoly with Yuuri too. Besides, his sister was in the room.”

He heard someone giggle and his eyes met his American competitor’s, who winked at him before launching himself into a flawless and expressive triple axel. Yakov kept opening and closing his mouth like a fish, and he was still doing it by the time Victor started skating.

He felt like he was flying, supported by Yuuri. Distracted, he wondered what they would do after his training, and if his heart would survive an entire evening with Yuuri. 

His memories suddenly came up with the little whimper Yuuri made when he kissed him and he fell on a double toe loop, which earned him some well-deserved stares, and finally made Yakov explode. His ears were still hurting by the time practice was over a few hours later and he was required to show up extra early the next day.

All he could think about was his lover, and his hypothetical gold medal held zero significance to him at the moment.

He rushed to the showers, got dressed, and left so fast he was almost running. He even forgot to give his trademark smile to the press waiting outside. The latest text he received gave him a map of the area and pinpointed a café, which he found easily as its doors were painted an aggressive shade of red. 

When he entered, he didn’t know if his face was burning because of the heater that had been set too high, or because he was seeing his beloved, reading a book in a corner of the room. Yuuri’s hair was a mess, but an artistic one, even though Victor believed he actually forgot to tame it before leaving the hotel and didn’t try to look so hot on purpose. He was wearing a brown scarf over a knitted, dark blue shirt, his cheeks slightly pink and his eyes shining. Victor crossed the distance between them quietly. Then, since Yuuri didn’t notice him, he walked behind him and embraced him, nuzzling his neck.

“V-Vitya!” the boy yelped, and the Russian giggled.

“Hi, Yuuri!”

“Your nose is cold.”

Aware that he was acting like an overexcited puppy, he tried to calm down, and it required a surprising strength. Soon he was seated face to face with the love of his life, swooning when he heard him order their drinks in his native language.

“You won my sister’s trust,” Yuuri confided when they received their coffee and tea. “She thought we were adorable last night.”

“Do I need to keep acting so innocent then and never touch you again?”

Yuuri rose an eyebrow.

“I’ll kill you if you do that.”

This time the redness of his cheeks couldn’t come from anything else but Yuuri’s words. 

“My room tonight, then,” he replied with a cheeky grin.

“Before that, do you want to do anything special?” 

It was cute how the Japanese tried to keep a straight face and continue their discussion. In all honesty Victor would have been more than satisfied with spending the whole afternoon in bed, but he also wanted to wander the streets and buy ridiculous souvenirs. 

They made a list. It wasn’t Victor’s first visit to Japan, but it was his first time doing something else than skating and staying around his hotel. Yuuri had never been to Nagano either.

First, they both wanted to see the Zenkoji Temple and Yuuri promised to bring him into a gaming arcade. The Russian didn’t have much free time and he missed out on everything Yuuri knew so well. While the younger boy was busy showing him interesting spots on a small map, Victor had to fight the urge to kiss him senseless.

Their beverages were half gone when they started to discuss Russia, and what Victor intended to show him. He hoped he could bring Yuuri to his grandparents’ home sometime, so they could skate on the frozen lake, and he wanted to let him taste his favourite food if his mother agreed to cook for them. Then there were the snowy streets at night, historical sights and buildings, coffee shops and malls, the walks in summer… and just Victor’s place, which he couldn’t wait to invite him in. Oh, the thought of the boy, bundled up in a sweater, with a steaming mug in his hand, sitting on his sofa… the sigh he let out sounded much too loud. He met Yuuri’s confused glance and reassured him with a soft caress on the back of his hand. He felt guilty for not listening to him, but trusted him to choose activities they would both enjoy.

Only thirty minutes later, Victor had something sticky and warm on his tongue and he wasn’t sure he liked it. The texture was the weirdest thing he ever tried. Apparently, his expression must have been funny, because Yuuri was grinning.

“Wha- ish jhat?” he asked, frowning and trying to speak as normally as possible.

“Dango with sweet soy sauce.”

“Ish weirj!”

And weird it was, but not bad. It just took a while to get used to. Yuuri showed him the other kind of white or colored spheres displayed on the merchant’s stall, all of them on sticks, and he told him about their different flavors and how they were made. He could have been reading the phone book and Victor would still think it was fascinating.

The dango wasn’t the only strange food he had that day, but if someone asked him what he tried, he would be unable to answer. His brain stopped working properly after he realized that yes, he was indeed with his Yuuri, it wasn’t a dream, and Yuuri was even more beautiful than he remembered. They laughed together, teasing each other like kids, taking pictures and never standing more than five centimeters apart. At first, Victor feared his constant light touches would make the Japanese uncomfortable, but while he did tense up at first, he quickly reciprocated them, and when they didn’t hold hands Yuuri made sure his fingers were always in contact with him: they grabbed his sleeve, ghosted over his neck and hair, and, to Victor’s delight, even pressed against the small of his back. 

He failed miserably at every game they played. Of all of them, he enjoyed the fake taiko drums the most, and indulged Yuuri in his favourite zombie shooter, even though it creeped him out.

The temple was a perfect occasion to fill their memory cards with pictures and selfies, and when Victor finally read one of the numerous texts from his coach, he smirked. The couple decided it was too late to be careful about the press. Yakov’s worries about Yuuri's career were valid, but unnecessary. They had discussed it quite a bit in the past few months. Neither Victor nor Yuuri intended to keep a low profile, rumors be damned. They were too happy to care.

The sun set early, a few snowflakes appearing and making Yuuri look even cuter when they fell on his hair and attached themselves to his eyelashes or smudged his glasses. Having taken note of all the good restaurants in the area as soon as he heard that his boyfriend would be there, he knew exactly where to bring him. It wasn’t the fanciest place in the city, because he didn’t want him to feel underdressed, but it came highly recommended on every website he visited and still had a Michelin star. Someone at the rink helped him book a table.

Their coats were taken at the entrance and they were led to a private alcove. Most customers seemed to be acquainted with skating as they gasped or glanced curiously at Victor. Yuuri was beaming by the time they were seated.

“What’s up?” Victor asked, in awe, still.

“I was just thinking… all these people admire you, and you only have eyes for me.”

He shivered in delight.

“My Yuuri, so bold, I love it.”

The Japanese kissed his knuckles, and Victor blushed, then hid his face in the menu. It was a French restaurant with a French chef and the language hadn’t been butchered when translated under the Japanese characters so he had no trouble reading it.

“Vitya, that’s expensive,” Yuuri whispered.

“Let me spoil you.”

That earned him a groan, but thankfully Yuuri didn’t order the cheapest dish just to save Victor’s overflowing bank account.

They each started with a lobster bisque that almost resulted in an incident after Yuuri moaned at the taste, then they had a steak Victor swore was better than any cut of meat he had at any restaurant - but perhaps it was just because Yuuri made everything delicious. They talked more about St. Petersburg, Hasetsu, Makkachin and the Grand Prix.

They both abstained from ordering dessert, and they didn’t drink anything but water, Yuuri being underage and Victor competing the next day. They were out before 7, and chose to walk back to the hotel, cuddling for warmth. 

Finally, the elevator stopped at Victor’s floor, and Yuuri nervously texted his sister, before pocketing the device and looking at the older man with a new determination in his wonderful eyes.

“Your room, then, Vitya?”

The Russian nodded; he didn’t remember using his key card or removing his coat and boots, because now that they were inside, Yuuri was kissing him, pressing him against the door, and oh- he was pulling his hair.

Victor was torn between pushing him down on the bed, or pulling him closer, and Yuuri made the choice for him, his knee finding its way between his legs. The whimper came from Victor this time.

“Yuuri,” he moaned between feverish kisses, “I love you, I missed you so much!”

Their tongues danced together, Yuuri murmured in Japanese when they parted, before kissing him again, deeper, lighting a fire inside Victor. Soon he stopped feeling the pressure of a leg between his thighs, and the hardness of the door against his back, as Yuuri turned them around and had him sit on the bed. Curious, his pants too tight, Victor gazed at him in wonder, and Yuuri started undressing. His throat went dry.

“Are you sure?”

Yuuri’s fingers tripped on his belt. 

“I- not all the way,” he said, and Victor felt almost relieved, because he didn’t have any condom, and after so long, he wasn’t exactly certain he wouldn’t screw up..

“Okay… promise me to tell me when you want to stop.”

The younger skater kissed his hair and nodded, then got rid of his pants and shirt. Victor followed, and when only their boxers remained, they embraced so quickly that they hit their head.

Between chuckles and moans, they lay down. Yuuri straddled him and moved his mouth from his lips to his neck. He kissed and softly bit his skin, going lower and lower. Victor loved it. He couldn’t help but buck his hips, which made Yuuri snort, and to ground himself he rediscovered the black-haired boy’s body. He already knew so much, but nowhere near enough. He waited for permission once he reached the fabric below Yuuri’s abdomen, then finally stroked him without any barrier between them.

It was a bit awkward, but it was, so far, the best sexual experience of his life. Yuuri was so responsive, he shivered so easily, and the way he tried to keep quiet and failed was a fantastic reward. As for himself… Victor knew he was a mess. A writhing, oversensitive creature completely at Yuuri’s mercy as soon as the boy’s hand replicated his gestures. Then Yuuri sucked on his earlobe and murmured:

“Win gold for me, Vitenka, and I’ll do the same thing you did to me in the locker room.”

Victor came right here and then, and hid his face in the crook of his lover’s neck, trembling, and ashamed that he couldn’t last longer. Yuuri’s words held a scary sort of power.

The younger skater laughed softly, out of breath, then peppered his face with kisses, and that was when Victor noticed he had been too fast as well.

His shame turned to amusement and between fits of laughter and ridiculous snorts, they kissed and cuddled.

Who cared for the angry knocks at the door?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter contains some light angst but Yuuri is here to save the day.  
> I also noticed I forgot to reply to the comments 3 chapters ago because Japan melted my brain. Sorry X_X I read all of them though! Thank you!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a short "forum posts" section in there and decided to use "*" instead of usernames because I'm too lazy to invent them. So, each "*" is a different post.  
> Regarding homophobia in this story... it exists, but won't be brought up, not even by the press. In the previous story, remember that Victor was scared to come out, but it was a small detail in an overly supportive environment. So, not 100% homophobia free like the YOI universe, but maybe 99%.

“Mr Nikiforov, how would you describe your relationship with the boy you were seen with?”

“Mr Nikiforov! Are you gay?”

“Mr Nikiforov, who is the lucky man?”

 

Victor’s face was frozen in a neutral expression as he let his coach shut down any question unrelated to skating. Today was the day of the free skate, and journalists had been following the skater everywhere since he walked out of the hotel three days ago. He thought he wouldn’t mind even after Yakov warned him about it, because he lived on a cloud of marshmallows and cotton candy after spending time with Yuuri, but the invasion made his mood turn sour when he realized no one would leave them alone when he met up with the younger man after getting his record-breaking score (it broke his own previous record, as usual). These people became so obnoxious they were actually an issue not just for him, but for the other skaters as well, who were being asked every question Victor refused to answer. 

Their coaches were furious, and the skaters tried to understand the situation but it was obviously getting on their nerves.

It ruined Victor and Yuuri’s plans for the day between the short program and the free skate, and earlier that morning, as they both arrived at the rink with Yakov’s permission, a photographer, in his haste to get his camera closer to Victor, accidentally hit Yuuri and made him fall down the short stairs leading to the main door.

The boy’s back was badly scraped and his hip hurt enough to give him a temporary limp. He tried to hide it at first, but Victor saw dried blood on his white shirt when he removed his coat once they were safely inside. 

He had never been so angry. His neutral expression was all he could manage; his fake smile seemed impossible to attempt, even now, several hours later, after he received his free skate score.

It was much lower than it had been in years. For the first time, the other skaters saw an opportunity to actually beat the skating monster, and Johnny Weir nearly managed it, still getting silver but being close enough to the gold to taste it. The only thing that eased Victor’s fury was the sight of his boyfriend watching him from the VIP seats, looking so happy and proud he had probably forgotten the incident a while ago.

Weir gave the fakest smile he could muster to someone who asked him for the third time who Victor’s boyfriend was, and Yakov snapped first. The press conference was a disaster. Ashamed of the mess he had created, Victor was relieved to be pulled into a meeting with his coach and two ISU officials who were appalled at the lack of respect the journalists showed. They requested a public statement from Victor himself to calm things down and promised to review who was allowed to interview the participants of any competition from now on. Their purge would be extensive.

“I’m okay,” Yuuri murmured once they were back into Victor’s hotel room. 

Mari went to the pharmacy and bought a soothing lotion for his bruise and some antiseptic for the scratches, which were superficial. She left them alone, trusting Victor enough by now to let them spend the night together, especially after the emotions and anger the couple felt. Naked, laying on his stomach, Yuuri reassured the Russian once again as he worriedly added more lotion to his hip. Victor didn’t think he would see the day where having Yuuri completely bare on his bed wouldn’t make him horny, but here it was. He had been too scared. No medal, no amount of fame was worth seeing his beloved hurt. He would throw everything away to keep him safe.

He was glad Yuuri’s face was turned towards the window when he started to feel the familiar bitterness of his upcoming tears tighten his throat.

It had been nothing. But what if he fell in a different way? What if he broke his neck on the steps? The thought made him miss the landing on his quad flip and was now haunting him again. And apparently, he was too quiet for too long, because before he could realize what was happening, a very naked, very sweet and very warm Yuuri was hugging him tightly, running his fingers through his hair and kissing his eyelids. He told him he loved him, in Russian. With the cutest accent Victor ever heard.

“Talk to me, Vitya.”

He breathed in Yuuri’s scent. It calmed him almost instantly and he found his voice again.

“I’m just… pissed off, and scared, and sorry. We had to hide, or stay in the room, I didn’t get to take you out every evening like I planned. They hurt you, they ruined our day and the competition, not just for us but for everyone. Because I’m Victor Nikiforov,” he spat his own name. “Because the unbeatable skating monster is in love. The other skaters didn’t exist and I feel so bad about it. Then you had to see that, and you had to see the ugly side of me, when I’m angry and sad. Did I make a mistake? Should we have been more discrete?”

Yuuri broke the hug and pushed him back slightly, gazing into his eyes, a serious expression on his face.

“Nothing was ruined. Sure, I fell, and I feel sorry for the other skaters, but you know they understood you never asked for that. I’m happy with you, even if we had to stay at the hotel. The food was great anyway. I don’t want to hide. I want to hold your hand outside and I don’t care how many newspapers will have our picture on the front page tomorrow. I get anxious sometimes, and I swear, if it had affected me as much as you think, I wouldn’t be so calm. I want to see every side of you. I’ll cheer up the sad one, and I’ll tolerate the ugly one, because I’m not perfect either.”

Well, that did it. The tears fell freely. He tried to hide them and Yuuri respected his privacy, holding him close.

“Your coach spoke to me earlier,” the Japanese continued, and Victor wiped his tears on his sleeve but didn’t look up. “He changed your flight.”

He frowned and this time, ignored his shame, staring at the younger man. He was surprised to see him smiling tenderly as he delivered the news, but soon understood why:

“You’re not leaving tomorrow morning. You’re leaving in four days, from Fukuoka. You’re coming home with me, Vitya.”

What? Why would Yakov do this for him when all he did was scream at him all day long? Victor knew he liked him, but last time he asked for a day off he remembered all too well how that went. When his phone rang, he picked up immediately, and barely let his coach speak before showering him in thanks.

 

 

*

 

 

Victor Nikiforov official website

Homepage

_ Message from Victor _

 

I was deeply shocked and saddened by the treatment of my competitors during the NHK Trophy. I apologize for causing this chaos and I thank each and every one of them, and all of you, for your support. The situation is being handled by the ISU and in the meantime, I would like to take this opportunity to answer some of these questions. While my personal life has never been this invaded before, I understand it comes with fame, however people were hurt and I can’t sit there and watch. I have no reason to hide.

After discussing with my partner we both agreed to speak up. I am indeed in a relationship with another man, a skater you might hear about soon enough. His name is Katsuki Yuuri. He currently resides in Japan but will be moving to Russia to continue his training. I will not answer any more question on this matter. Please support him when he makes his international debut! 

We ask that you respect our privacy and we thank you for your understanding.

 

Victor 

  
  


Skaaaating-Forum.com

 

NHK Trophy Incident

 

* So we’ve all seen what happened in the news but did you see the leak? **link**

 

* Wait did they shove that guy down the stairs??

 

* “That guy” is Victor’s boyfriend. No wonder he was so different during his free skate

 

* What the hell is wrong with journalists?

 

* Those were paparazzi. Not the same thing.

 

* When they zoom in at 1:13… that boy is gorgeous, go Vitya!

 

* Looks like a major sports magazine fired their employee and some other people got their press visas revoked for the Russian Nationals and GPF after legal complaints **link**

 

* that story is making noise, wow

 

* well apparently they also caused issues at the hotels and around the rink, the police was involved

 

* Source?

 

* good riddance. No need for people like that around our skaters. They can go work for some scandal mag and harass other people.

 

* Did anyone notice Johnny’s tweet?

 

* I have better:  **picture**  Vitya and him supporting each other is the best!

 

* Is anyone going to talk about this Yuuri and his skating? Do you think Yakov Feltsman is taking him on?

 

* He doesn’t train foreign skaters. I’m curious though. Couldn’t find any video online but I found his profile on the JSF website **link**

 

* He’s still in the Junior division

 

* /message deleted by admin/

 

* Admin: we will not tolerate this kind of language on the forum.

 

* Anonymous, get lost! Anyone know how they met?

 

* Aaah I’m imagining something romantic and cute!

 

* I have a friend who says Katsuki was at Feltsman’s summer camp and Victor was there. They probably met in a smelly locker room, sorry for your roses and violins

 

* As much as I hate trusting the “I have a friend”, that sounds likely

 

* That was like 4 months ago. Victor never announced his relationships before!

 

* He’s never been in a proven one so far and tbh he was kinda pushed to reveal it. It’s good that they don’t want to hide it but it’s sad that they were forced to do it so soon

 

* lol are you implying Vitya has never been in a relationship before??? HAHAHA!!!

 

* I picture him having one night stands. He’s an athlete, a relationship demands time, and he doesn’t have time. It can work with Yuuri because he’s a skater too and understands. So, wait and see. I hope they’re happy.

 

* I hope the press leaves them and everyone else THE /removed/ ALONE

 

 

*

 

 

If Yuuri hadn’t been there with him, Victor would have found it difficult to relax. The statement did have the desired effect and he was glad and relieved that his fellow skaters didn’t blame him, but he was still exhausted. He hadn’t slept well, seeing Yuuri fall down the stairs over and over again. Yuuri knew. He didn’t leave his side. Their secret was out, they didn’t need to hide. So, Yuuri found the easiest way to soothe the Russian: being affectionate. While the boy had grown more comfortable with intimacy in private, Victor knew it cost him to show his feelings in public. Yet… yet he held Victor’s hand in the airport, slid his hand around his waist when they boarded, and nuzzled his neck during the flight. How could Victor feel moody in any way when his happiness threatened to make him melt? 

Hasetsu helped him forget whatever lingering fear and worry he still had. It was quiet. The sound of the wheels under his luggage echoed in the empty streets after they exited the station. They walked with their fingers interlaced, a few steps behind Mari.

They passed by a few convenience stores of different brands, decrepit-looking ramen restaurants, a preschool Yuuri pointed out as having been his, and rows of vending machines selling hot and cold beverages - even soup, if he wasn’t hallucinating. The weirdest thing about Japan so far were the electrical wires hanging everywhere. 

Mari entered the courtyard of a beautiful traditional house a few minutes later and Yuuri smiled even though his shoulders were stiff, probably in anticipation of revealing the truth to his family if they didn’t already see the articles. Victor found he felt much the same way. Meeting the parents. Something he never thought he would have to do, and now started to dread. 

Still, they didn’t let go of each other’s hands and walked in.

Victor’s newly born nightmare was real, and it was called Toshiya. The older man smiled at his son and welcomed the visitor, his English too limited to speak much. His eyes however told Victor that behind his laid back attitude, should Yuuri ever be hurt there would be hell to pay. Instead of letting the stares and the slightly cold smile scare him, Victor listened to Yuuri’s speech. He loved it when he spoke in his native language. 

The next few minutes were a blur. Somehow, he found himself tasting katsudon with his beloved. Yuuri’s mother, Hiroko, was excited to meet him and glad her son brought him home, but just like her husband, she only knew basic English and it made any conversation short and simple. He thought it would be awkward. He thought he wouldn’t feel particularly calm. He was so, so wrong.

The food was better than anything his mother ever cooked, and she was a good cook. The house was where Yuuri grew up, it was his safe haven, and there was space for Victor in it. Now, he couldn’t wait to bring him to his parents’ home too. 

When they finished their meal, Yuuri dragged him to the back of the house while Mari prepared a guest room.

Victor’s first shock was seeing naked men, some with a white towel protecting their crotch, some proudly displaying their attributes, all of them either showering or lazying around in shallow pools. The second shock was how comfortable Yuuri was with his own nudity in this setting, and after hesitating for a few seconds, the Russian got rid of his own clothes and imitated the younger man to wash up, sitting on a plastic stool. He wasn’t exactly keen on joining random people in the bath. 

“Come on,” Yuuri murmured, grabbing his wrist to drag him further into the bath house. He opened a door and stepped outside. Used to the cold, Victor barely reacted at his bare feet touching freezing stones, and wide grin suddenly stretched his lips.

The bath outside was empty. He entered the hot water with a happy sign and lay against a rock. He saw Yuuri put up a sign, probably to prevent other people from joining.

“This bath is more expensive,” he explained. “It can be booked and since no one did it for the next hour, it’s ours. Do you like it?”

His cheeks were red. He was so cute. If they weren’t naked, Victor would have hugged him. 

“I love it, it’s beautiful!”

The Japanese smiled and joined him. Victor didn’t avert his eyes. They had seen each other naked a few times already. No doubt that for Yuuri, nothing could be more embarrassing than their first meeting. As if sensing Victor’s need for touch, or as if he, too, was starved for it, Yuuri slowly moved towards him, until the Russian couldn’t stand it anymore and embraced him. 

The younger skater laughed softly. They cuddled, and it was everything they needed after the rollercoaster that the NHK Trophy had been.

“Vitya, I’m glad you’re here.”

Victor kissed his forehead. The warmth spreading in his body didn’t only come from the water.

“Me too. I love you, my sun.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knocked on the door on the last chapter? Yakov, to bring them the bad news.  
> Yuuri should be moving to Russia after the next chapter :)


	16. Chapter 16

Victor won the Grand Prix Final. Yuuri won gold in his last Junior competition a few days later. Now twenty-two and eighteen years old, the couple watched as snow fell and melted in their respective countries, both so busy they barely had time to talk. The insane rhythm of Victor’s training, competitions and galas meant he often fell asleep in the middle of their daily skype call, and Yuuri had been studying so much it wasn’t rare for the webcam to catch him drooling on an open book, sometimes on a pen, which meant he woke up with doodles all over his face. His hard work paid off; his enrollment into his online courses for his degree was now confirmed. 

Out of high school, he shivered in anticipation as he jogged on the shoreline, gazing at some shy cherry blossoms blooming in the cold wind. In two weeks they would be in full bloom and for the first time in his life, he wouldn’t be there to see them.

Moving to another country was a scary process. His visa had been ready for a while now, carefully stuck in his passport. The walls of his room were bare. The pictures of himself and Victor waited with his clothes, skates, electronics, toiletries and gifts inside his luggage. Tonight, he would sleep in his childhood bedroom for the last time, having no idea when he would come back.

He stopped running near his favourite spot on the beach. When he brought Victor there during his short stay in Hasetsu, it was freezing cold and the older man started coughing after bragging about being Russian and thus, used to below zero temperatures. Yuuri nursed him back to health the next day and discovered how dramatic he could be - because with his stuffy nose, he couldn’t breathe, and if he couldn’t breathe it meant he was dying, surely. A fever of 37.8 degrees sent him in a weird, whiny panic until Yuuri, who never took his own fevers seriously unless they were very close to, or above 39, attempted to smother him with a pillow. It didn’t work, so he tried a kiss, which only made Victor complain that his terrible sickness was most likely contagious - it was, but Yuuri didn’t even notice when he caught it. 

Yuuri then found the perfect way to shut him up, keeping his promise as Victor did indeed win gold in the NHK Trophy.

When he thought about this day, he was simultaneously horrified at what he had done, amused because of his partner’s ridiculous antics, and aroused by the memories of the silver-haired man gasping and moaning while Yuuri’s mouth worked between his legs, awkward but eager. Here, on the sand near a dead, abandoned tree that was already there when he was a kid, no one could see the red hue of his cheeks. He sat on a dry patch of sand and observed the ocean. Then his mind wandered.

He made a mental list of what he needed to do in St. Petersburg:

 

_ -Go to the shared house, meet housemates, survive until Xavier moves in _

_ -Try not to cry if the bed isn't as comfortable as the one at home - no bed would ever be as comfy, though. Perhaps Victor’s bed… _

_ -Visit a supermarket and hope to find ingredients for Japanese dishes. If failed, ask Victor. _

_ -Go to the rink, meet Johan and schedule practices  
_

_ -Start online courses _

_ -Live through the first week without destroying everything or humiliating myself in extremely basic Russian and thus banning myself from all the stores around the house _

_ -Spend weekend with Victor _

_ - ~~Have sex (maybe?)~~   
_

 

He buried his face in his hands. He wanted it so much he often wondered if his obsession was healthy. His research was done, though it did leave him quite confused between “does it hurt or does it not”. Some people said it hurt every time. Some said it hurt the first time. Some said it never did. The next question was, of course, what would Victor want? Perhaps he was exclusive to one role? Yuuri hoped he wasn’t, but he would respect his wishes if it turned out he never wanted to switch. As good as their communication was, they never discussed sexual intimacy. It was something that made Yuuri blush more than the thought of their actual acts, as if talking about it was worse than giving each other a blowjob.

As for himself, he had no idea what he would prefer, or how anything would feel like. The previous night, after a lot of Googling and history clearing followed by a short call to his boyfriend to tell him when he would land, he gave it a try. Saliva might not have been a good or advised lubricant but he had nothing else. One finger was easy; he didn’t hate it. Two fingers was uncomfortable. He guessed it was due to his lack of lubricant and how difficult it was for him to relax, as he was doing this from a nearly clinical perspective and a less than ideal position. He went back to one finger only and managed to get aroused by thinking about Victor’s hands on him. His brain whispered “achievement unlocked” as he discovered a new, though weak sensation.

He didn’t look for that “magical” spot Google told him would be so incredible. He would let Victor do it. 

The Russian would know what to do and how, and he would reassure him. Yuuri wasn’t particularly scared, mostly self-conscious. He trusted the older boy. If it hurt, he would stop. 

A flock of seagulls landed in the water close-by. Time to go.

 

 

*

 

 

Yuuri made two discoveries on the plane: one, he was able to sleep, even if it took time. Long enough for his eyes to be watery as the flight attendants dimmed the lights in each section. Two, the only tasty thing he was served was miso soup. He remembered reading an article about how flying affected tastebuds and wondered if the dish he had was just the result of horrendous cooking or if his reduced sensitivity to flavors was to blame. He decided it could be both.

It was his first intercontinental flight and despite having slept for most of it, his mind was hazy when he finally walked on Russian ground. It was like he didn’t sleep at all for the past two days. He assumed it was how jet lag felt. 

Immigration was a relatively painless, but long, process and by the time he arrived at baggage claim, his suitcase had been put to the side. Customs were a bit more complicated as it seemed someone in front of him had tried to smuggle something into the country. By the time he was out, he could barely stand, but recognized his name on a paper held by a very bored looking Eva Nikiforova.

She brightened as soon as she saw him, and he was still gaping at her when she hugged him.

“I-I thought Vitya would pick me up?” he said, then immediately realized he had spoken out loud. The woman laughed and dragged him to the currency exchange booth, filling the necessary paper so he could have some money on him before opening a bank account.

“Believe me, he wanted to, I just didn’t let him. I apologize if you’re disappointed.”

He quickly told her he didn’t mind, even if it was a lie. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything.  _ How much does she know?  _ he asked himself when his money was exchanged.

“Is he alright?” he worried then.

Eva’s car was just as comfortable as he remembered. The woman snickered, leaving the airport on a busy road under the morning light.

“He’s cleaning. His apartment was a disaster. He intended to invite you over for dinner and called me so I could help him cook. I don’t mind making sure your first day here together is very romantic, but my son will not welcome his boyfriend in a dump and make his family look bad.”

Yuuri barely repressed a whimper that quickly turned into a laugh. So, she knew, and encouraged it. 

“Th-thank you, I guess…”

“Don’t worry about it. I also know you’re exhausted. I’m bringing you to your new home and I’ll deal with the owner if you need help. Once you’re all set, you can rest, and either I or my husband will pick you up later.”

“Why?” he blinked, even more drowsy now with the heated seat under his legs.

“Why are we doing this, you mean?”

He nodded with a hum.

“Vitya never asks us for anything, so you better believe that when he nearly begged me for help because he didn’t want to screw up this first evening, I was more than happy to visit him. I also work from home, part-time, which makes it easier to jump in my car when needed. It won’t be me tonight because Yulian will be coming directly from work. More convenient. His office is actually very close to your place.”

“So, is it okay? That I’m me?”

Still uneasy, he saw her eyebrow twitch.

“Vitya came out when he was a teenager. Yulian actually had a bet with me and he had known for a while. I lost the bet. It never mattered to me. If you mean, is it okay that you’re Yuuri… my husband calls you his shy son when we talk about you, and you make my boy happier than I’ve ever seen him. You’re good for him.”

He didn’t know when he fell asleep after he finally stopped worrying, lulled by the movement of the car, but he woke up feeling a bit better just before Eva parked the vehicle in the courtyard of an old two stories house. 

They were welcomed by a severe looking man who reminded Yuuri of Yakov, just less intimidating. With Eva helping, the paperwork and first month of rent were quickly taken care of, and the teenager was then brought to his room.

It was quite obvious that this house had not been built recently. The pattern on the white wooden walls, sculpted details at the bottom, and bordered panels all screamed older European construction. The windows weren’t well isolated so the heaters worked constantly until summer. It explained the rather low rent.

The dining room was small and homey. Each shared space made Yuuri think he was on a movie set with carefully chosen décor and furniture, yet there was always at least one odd item that reminded him this was an actual house. Like the broken toaster left near the condemned chimney. Why was it there, he didn’t ask.

The door to his room had an old lock and a level lock key. Two narrow and tall windows gave him plenty of light. A single bed stood against the wall, a simple desk and chair from Ikea on the other side with a mini-fridge, and the wardrobe was directly built into the wall. Eva told him he should buy draft stoppers or he would suffer from the cold at night.

When she left after making sure everything was in order, Yuuri ventured out of his room, happy to be alone for now, and found the bathroom.

He dropped on his bed a few minutes later, hair wet, skin clean and smelling like lime. If Victor was cleaning and cooking for him, he wanted to be rested and alert in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rooms/walls/style I'm picturing are not from my own childhood home at all... nope... *cough*


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii! Sorry guys, updates are slower; I usually write on slow days at the office, but work has been crazy since I came back from Japan. I was looking forward to my 4 days weekend to catch up on my stories, but I got sick and am now on Day 2 of “staying in bed”. I managed to get this chapter out and I’m working on the next one for Wishes and Thorns, slowly. 
> 
> Apparently something was slightly confusing or I didn’t clear it up but Victor lives alone. His mom made him clean his entire apartment when she stopped by. Mine would definitely do the same.

It was almost time. On the wall, above the shelves displaying Victor’s medals and trophies, the clock was ticking, each second bringing Yuuri closer to him.

The apartment was so clean he took a picture of it and sent it to his mother, intending to show her that he could do it properly, but all Eva did was point out the smudge on the window. The young man just shrugged. Yuuri wouldn’t care if something was less than perfect. Actually, he even thought the boy would find his apartment lifeless and too clean compared to Yu-topia.

The whole place smelled like lavender; he even did the laundry without being prompted by his mom, despite having changed his bedsheets just a day ago, just because he hoped Yuuri would stay the night and appreciate crispy clean sheets. Once he stepped into the kitchen though, the smell changed, indicating that his roast was being caramelized just right. He opened the oven to turn the meat over and make sure the sauce didn’t evaporate too much as he would need it to pour over the mashed potatoes, then he turned his attention to the green beans (once cooked, he planned to wrap them in bacon and roast them in a pan) and wondered if perhaps he should have gone with a healthier idea. But no. He wanted to give Yuuri a feast. There would be too much to eat so he would give him some leftovers and share the rest with his parents. After all, his mother helped him and even made a Russian Charlotte for their dessert. It definitely felt like a very special occasion - but it was one. Other people might not understand it. Victor would still mark his calendar.

Would Yuuri like the food? Would he like Victor’s place, and could he bring more life into it? Of course he could. He was his precious Yuuri.

It was nearly time and Victor was nervous. His palms were sweaty. He took care of the beans, burning his fingers and swearing when he tried to wrap the bacon around them without letting them cool down first. Thinking of what his mother would say if she saw how the sink looked, he washed the dishes. He could be a responsible adult for the love of his life, right? He still had ten minutes. Or so he thought.

“Vitya! Yuuri’s here!” his father’s voice boomed, and Victor froze for a second before dashing out of the kitchen.

Here he was indeed. Bundled up in a comfortable looking coat, his brown eyes shining, his cheeks pink, his stance nervous. Yulian winked, told them to have fun, and disappeared behind the door before Victor could say hi.

He could only see Yuuri now. His entire world stood in his apartment. A wave of emotions threatened to make him cry and before he allowed himself to show them, he took a step towards the Japanese, who also moved forward.

One second later and they were clinging to each other desperately. It had been way too long. 

“Yu-”

Yuuri didn’t let him speak, he silenced him with the softest kiss, his lips ghosting over his, and Victor melted. There was something in his eye, he was sure of it, probably dust. He blinked the tears away. When Yuuri hid his face in the crook of his neck, Victor, pressed his nose in his soft black hair, breathing in, smiling to himself. They could have stayed like this, in their own little universe, if Yuuri’s stomach didn’t interrupt them loudly.Their embrace broke. Yuuri smiled shyly, his shoulders shaking with repressed laughter, and Victor grinned.

“Hi, my Yuuri,” he whispered, delighted to see the color on his cheeks deepen.

“Hi, Vitya.”

He led him further into the apartment and helped him out of his coat. Yuuri looked around, adorable as always, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

“You’re not too tired? I feel a bit guilty, maybe I should have invited you tomorrow?” 

Yuuri shook his head.

“I took a nap. I didn’t want to wait. It smells really good,” he added, making his way towards the kitchen, then blinking in surprise at the sight. “You cooked for an army!”

Victor chuckled and kissed his cheek. Yuuri squeaked, then asked him if he needed any help, and the Russian was more than happy to have someone who could help him wrap the beans, now cool enough not to hurt. Yuuri insisted to do more; he ended up dressing the small square table by the window and while Victor put the final touches to their meal, he played with Makkachin in the living room. 

The silver-haired skater couldn’t stop smiling. It felt just right to have him here. 

They discussed Yuuri’s flight and his new room in the shared house as they ate, and laughed hysterically when they did the dishes later and used too much soap, some of which landed on the floor and caused Victor to fall on his butt. 

“Presenting Victor Nikiforov, the god of ice skating”, Yuuri said. Victor whined pitifully.

The young man went to his room to change into his tracksuit so his pants could dry. When he came back, Yuuri was in the living room, looking at his books with interest. Victor stood near the couch, arms spread to welcome the boy, who ran to him as soon as he noticed his presence. They once again held each other quietly. 

Yuuri was an angel, there was no doubt. A sweet, perfect, beautiful, innocent-

“Vitya, I want you,” destroyed his train of thought as Yuuri murmured it in a hot breath against his ear.

His throat dried up immediately. Innocent, sure. He changed his mind: Yuuri wasn’t an angel, he just pretended to be one, and it made him more dangerous. Victor didn’t stand a chance. He would do anything for him.

“Want me how?” he asked, struggling to keep himself from pushing him down.

“I don’t - I don’t know-”

Victor frowned and pulled away, a hand resting on his boyfriend’s cheek. Was Yuuri doing this because he thought Victor wanted it, even if himself wasn’t ready? Did he think Victor would lose interest if he had to wait longer? It sounded like it.

“Yuuri, you know you can tell me everything, right? I don’t want you to be nervous.”

The Japanese chewed on his lower lip.

“I really w-want you but, I don’t know where to start, and I’ll be terrible at it, and I don’t… I don’t even know what you like…”

“I’m not sure what I like either. We can discover it together! You won’t be bad, why do you think I would be better anyway?”

“You have- you’re not a virgin.”

“I might as well be, last time I had sex I wasn’t even sixteen yet.” He smiled at Yuuri’s reaction. The boy blinked like an owl, it was just too cute. “I want you too,” he continued, his voice now slightly lower, “and I want to try everything you’re comfortable with. But only if you’re sure you’re ready.”

At that, Yuuri laughed, before embracing him again and kissing him almost too forcefully. 

“I still think I’ll screw up,” he replied, his mouth so close they breathed the same air. “That’s- that’s why I’m stuttering like an idiot.” Victor chuckled and let him continue. “But it doesn’t mean I’ll regret anything. I’m not scared, just- intimidated. Because I want you to feel good.” 

Victor squeezed him, happiness bursting in his chest. When he let him go, the younger skater’s glasses were askew and he was smiling.

“I can screw up too,” the silver-haired man assured. “If one of us does, then we can laugh about it, okay? And we can stop if it doesn’t work.”

A nod, a kiss, and they left Makkachin behind, closing the door to the bedroom behind them.

 

 

*

 

 

The sheets were on the floor with the men’s clothes. On the nightstand stood a bottle of lube and on one of the pillows, an unopened condom waited to be picked up. And laying on the mattress, sweat glistening on his skin, all Victor could see was stars. Slowly, he came back to his senses, finding an embarrassed but delighted Yuuri sitting between his legs. They screwed up indeed, in the best way. They were too eager, too impatient. When Yuuri decided to taste Victor’s cock and finger him at the same time, he did so in such a way that the Russian came too quickly, unable to warn him in time. Watching him had been enough to bring Yuuri over the edge, as he had been close so many times already under the older boy’s touch.

Shaking, Victor pulled the blushing skater on top of him and kissed him slowly.

“So much for all the way,” he sighed happily, and Yuuri mumbled something in Japanese. “You were just too good.”

He knew they should clean up. They were both sticky, but he also knew neither Yuuri nor himself wanted to move. So they continued to share lazy kisses. Victor murmured how much he loved him and Yuuri repeated the same words to him, in Japanese, English, and finally in Russian. Having his beloved so close with no fabric between them was so perfect, so intimate, that Victor wondered if he was dreaming. He could feel him harden once more and the sensation made him shiver.

“You’re ready to go again so quickly?” he teased, still breathless.

Yuuri rolled his eyes and shut him up with another kiss.

“Are  _ you  _ ready?” he asked, moving his hips to try to arouse Victor.

It didn’t work, not exactly. The silver-haired skater was still too sensitive, the stimulation bordered on painful. He hissed and hooked his right leg around Yuuri’s waist, using his strength to switch positions, hitting his head against the wall in the process. It made Yuuri laugh so hard he snorted, and as they both giggled they remembered a similar scene when they barely knew each other and laughed until they cried. This was it. This was all Victor wanted in life. Minus the pain at the back of his skull, of course.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: roommates issues, apparition of Yurio (ultimate cockblocker), Vitya is stupid, and Yuuri prepares his senior debut! in no particular order :P


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter, because I wanted to see Yurio again.
> 
> Work has been absolutely insane lately. Shifts keep changing and it's exhausting. I don't know when it'll stop, but for now it's clear that I can't keep a regular posting schedule :(

Yuuri learned very quickly why there was a mini-fridge in his room: leaving anything in the main fridge, even labeled, meant losing it. He hadn’t even met his housemates when the meal he prepared in advance for his first lunch at the rink vanished, along with its bento box. Disappointed, he chose to keep quiet. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice after all, so if he never left anything out of his room there would not be any issue. He went as far as keeping his shoes and coat safely near his desk. After that, it didn’t take long to actually meet the other occupants. Four boys, two girls, and an old woman who lived on the upper floor, in the refurbished attic, and who was offered a room in exchange for cleaning and doing the occasional odd job - she had an engineering background and could easily repair appliances. The house was perfect thanks to her. If one of the occupants needed help or some in-depth cleaning, they could tell her; she never asked for anything in exchange but Yuuri had been informed by one of the girls (Isabella, an exchange student), that she would pay special attention if someone cooked for her. As good as she was with repairs, she was a disaster in the kitchen. Everyone liked her and affectionately called her the attic mouse, except one guy whom Yuuri suspected had a lot of trouble in life and took it out on the people around him. He believed he was the food thief.

Despite a frustrating first week between the theft, the administrative tasks associated with a move to another country, and the nightmare of finding what he wanted in the supermarket without understanding what he was reading, Yuuri slowly adapted and barely felt homesick.

After nearly two months, he now knew which employees spoke English well enough to help him when he went grocery shopping. He knew how demanding Johan was as a coach (it seemed like he applied the “Yakov method”), and he even started putting jam in his tea sometimes when he craved sugar. He noticed that Yulian Nikiforov acted like he knew him much better than he actually did and he visited the Nikiforov’s home twice for dinner, spending the evening smiling as Eva and her husband embarrassed Victor with old photo albums and stories. He was invited into the attic and discovered everything Victor owned as a child, even a very soft plushie left in an unmarked box: a green koala Victor used to sleep with since he was a baby. Yuuri pretended he didn’t see anything when his boyfriend took it back to his apartment, and he definitely didn’t laugh when he found it on the nightstand as they were making out a few days later. 

Scratch that, he did laugh, ruining yet another chance at going “all the way” because Victor went soft when he realized the green creature was, according to him, staring at them. Even after hiding it in the closet the mood was completely gone.

Two months, and they went on dates several times a week. Sometimes just for coffee in the morning, or for lunch or dinner, as they were both busy. Most Saturday nights saw Yuuri staying over at the apartment. They might not spend as much time together as they wanted but they were both thrilled each time they saw each other, even for a few minutes.

June brought a change in Yuuri’s daily routine when Xavier finally moved in. Their practice sessions became livelier now that Johan had more than one target. It also brought a letter from someone Yuuri hadn’t heard of in months, because he didn’t receive a reply to his last postcard: Yurio. He wrote entirely in Russian, so Yuuri brought it to Victor and asked for a translation. The kid said that since Yuuri was now in Russia, it meant he spoke Russian, and as such Yurio would stop using English. He also invited himself to St. Petersburg for a week of special training, so Yakov could assess if he wanted him as a student for the season or if he still had to wait.

The child was supposed to stay with his future coach. Yet on a hot Friday evening, Victor and Yuuri found out that he would be using the spare room in the silver-haired skater’s apartment. Both boys were out of breath and flushed when someone knocked on the door. Shameless, Victor welcomed Yakov and Yuri, while Yuuri hid in the bathroom. He came back out after Yakov left, and barely had any time to say hi before a little blond tornado jumped in his arms. Makkachin seemed to think it was a new game and pounced on him at the same time, sending both Yu(u)ris to the floor. The kid started squirming and screaming in disgust as the dog licked his face. Yuuri giggled and pushed Makkachin away then sat up and hugged Yuri properly.

“Hey, how is my favourite gremlin?”

A stream of Russian answered him, before Victor kneeled next to them and said something that made Yurio pout but switch to English.

“Why you are in Russia if you don’t speak Russian?” 

“I’ll learn,” Yuuri replied. “Now, why did Yakov think Victor would be a good babysitter for you?”

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Mh. A good guardian, then.”

“Yuuriiii!” Victor whined. “You wound me! I’m very responsible!”

Something was still off; Yuuri highly doubted the grumpy coach trusted his pupil that much. He frowned.

“Did you lie to Yakov?”

Victor could never hide anything from him. He sighed and looked slightly embarrassed.

“I may have told him you’d be there too.”

“WHAT? Vitya, I don’t live here!”

“But you could! Just for this week, please Yuuri!”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to - God, he wanted that more than anything, but it was impractical and he would barely get any studying done. He rose while Yurio ran towards Victor’s DVD collection, and soon the older skater had his arms around his waist and muttered an apology in his ear, licking his earlobe as if it could convince Yuuri to forgive him. Well, it worked. Yuuri turned around, gave him a peck on the lips and joined Yurio so they could choose a movie together. 

They ordered pizza and Yuuri felt guilty until he bit into the first slice. The movie was in Russian with English subtitles so the trio enjoyed it while eating, Makkachin dozing off at their feet. Yurio and Victor both cuddled Yuuri, and Yuuri couldn’t stop smiling.

A week here with them would definitely be nice.

Or so he thought. When Yurio felt like he owned the place, he could be insufferable. This was a side of him Yuuri hadn’t seen before but definitely witnessed when he came back from walking Makkachin the next morning. He found the kid driving Victor crazy with a tantrum more suited for a four-year-old who didn’t want to eat his broccoli. The older Russian looked at Yuuri with desperation nearly oozing out of his skin.

Yuuri just smirked.

 

 

*

 

 

“Is it Friday yet?”

“You’re the one who volunteered.”

“But Yuuri!”

Attempting anything even slightly intimate when Yurio slept in the guest room didn’t go well; the child seemed to possess a built-in alarm system and decided to be, as Victor called him, the ultimate cockblocker for the duration of his stay. They had been so careful! They only slipped into bed three hours after Yurio’s bedtime, double checking that he was asleep, and they didn’t make a single noise yet something woke him up and he entered the master bedroom pretending he had a nightmare so Yuuri could sleep with him. But Yuuri knew what Yurio was like when he had an actual bad dream, he remembered the camp very well after all, and he saw through his lies. He didn’t scold him, but didn’t do what he wanted. 

It was not Friday. It was Sunday morning, and they had a whole week of babysitting to endure. 

“Yuuri, do you want kids?”

Yuuri’s eyes widened and he felt his face heat up. He buried his face into his pillow and grunted, not giving any real reply, which didn’t phase Victor.

“I thought I did,” the Russian continued, “but now I don’t want to. A week, Yuuri, yet people do this for 18 years if they’re lucky! 18 years of constant cockblocking and broccoli fights!”

“Don’t forget the first years. Puke, poo, tears and screams. These years count triple.”

He felt the older man’s exaggerated shudder and smiled against the pillow. He really liked being the little spoon. He also liked it the other way. He liked everything he did with Victor, even scrubbing the stove because  _ someone _ got distracted while cooking. He also liked Yurio but he discovered that his patience was quite limited when he had to take care of him without an actual structure around him.

Apparently, Yurio could act his age when needed, because the couple soon heard the sound of the shower and the loud noise of the key turning in the bathroom lock. Yuuri felt Victor grin against the skin of his neck and he slowly pushed his hips back. Taking Victor apart was so satisfying and so easy. This simple gesture made him gasp. Yuuri twisted his body so he could kiss him and grab his hair, the position uncomfortable but exciting. They would hear it when Yurio would unlock the bathroom door, so why not have some much deserved fun?

Yuuri also discovered that there was nothing more embarrassing than being caught with Victor’s cock sliding between his thighs and having to pretend that they were just spooning innocently when Makkachin ran into the room, followed by…

“DAD!?”

At least Victor was just as mortified as him. Perhaps even more. Yulian didn’t linger. He grabbed the dog and went back outside, then the boys heard him talk with Yurio, and Victor groaned in misery. It turned out that he called his father at dawn to complain about the kid, and the older man didn’t realize Yuuri was sleeping over.

It took ten minutes before Yuuri’s embarrassment dissipated enough to allow him to leave the room. Victor sighed at the sight of the bathroom - Yurio probably danced with the showerhead because the room was drenched. They’d clean later. They washed up. Yuuri kept wondering why his boyfriend thought asking his dad for help so early in the day was a good idea but then again, a lot of things could be explained simply by the fact that Victor was Victor.

Luckily, if Yulian noticed anything - and Yuuri wasn’t stupid, he definitely knew what they were doing - he chose to keep quiet about it. He focused instead of Yurio’s presence.

“I’m sure Eva would be glad to help you guys during the week and I can do it today,” he said after Yurio proudly exclaimed that he was too intelligent and Victor was jealous.  _ “Yuri, would you like to come to the house where Vitya grew up?”  _ he added in Russian, but Victor translated for Yuuri.

_ “Today?” _

_ “Sure, and you can sleep there too. Because tomorrow, Vitya and Yuuri will be busy and it’s not good if you’re alone after skating. Your grandpa agrees it would be best if you could be with us. I explained that Vitya was a bit silly.” _

_ “He’s very silly. I can stay all week? But then they can be disgusting! I don’t want Yuuri to be disgusting! I need to stay so nothing happens. You know, they’re gross aaaall the time and they burn food too.” _

Yuuri cringed, unable to decide if he wanted to hear more translations or become blissfully unaware of his surroundings.

_ “Then they can come over when they’re free, and go back home in the evening.” _

_ “You promise Yuuri will go back to his own place?” _

“I promise, Yurio,” Yuuri replied, and he ignored Victor’s pleading glance. He didn’t mind the early phone call anymore if it meant Victor swallowed his pride and acknowledged he was in over his head. Then Yulian insisted to invite them over for the day, and something he said was left untranslated by a bewildered Victor. Yuuri frowned but didn’t insist to know more, he was sure that whatever it was, he would discover it soon enough.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important: if you didn't read part 1, Tiger Stripes and Smartphones, this chapter will definitely confuse you!
> 
> Time travel is here! It's not a huge part of the story, it's just there so Victor gets some explanation about his dad's behavior, and the dreams he had a few years ago.
> 
> Honestly, Victor called Yulian at dawn on a Sunday morning and the guy cheerfully agreed to come over just because his son was in over his head with Yurio? Not something that would happen with most parents. They might agree to take care of Yurio for the rest of the week for his sake, but Victor would get an earful.  
> Instead, Yulian saw the phonecall as a great opportunity to spill the beans, and to get away from the overexcited... thing... that just appeared in his and Eva's life.

Victor liked surprises; he was rarely disappointed by them and they made him smile. Being surprised, and surprising people, excited and inspired him. But for the first time in his life, the surprise awaiting him when he stepped inside his childhood home didn’t do any of that. 

He stood in the doorway of his old bedroom, barely aware of Yuuri’s hand on his forearm. He could hear Yurio talk with Eva downstairs but didn’t bother listening to their animated exchange. Instead, his eyes stared at his father, then moved to the bed, then back to his father, and when they turned to the bed once more the “surprise” was still there.

It could have been a little brother, if his parents were cruel enough to hide his existence, and if his mother was somehow a magician who managed to conceal her entire pregnancy. It could have been a long lost cousin… but Victor knew better. The little kid who built a pillow fort on the mattress was no one but Victor himself. About three years old, messy silver hair and heartshaped little mouth, gigantic blue eyes that made everyone coo when his parents took him to the park… he almost swore but his father’s gave him a pointed look so he kept his mouth shut. Little Victor was too busy squealing and destroying his fort now to pay any attention to them.

Victor cleared his throat.

 

“What?” was the only word he managed to croak.

 

Yuuri blinked in confusion and Yulian grinned.

 

“I’m so glad to introduce you to time and dimension travel! I couldn’t wait until it happened again and since you accepted to spend the day here, the day has come. Sit on the bed, both of you.”

 

His mind blank, Victor led his boyfriend to the bed, narrowly avoiding a pillow thrust in his face, and as soon as they were sitting, little Victor crawled into Yuuri’s lap and clung to him.

 

“I- eh… Hi,” the Japanese murmured, adorably flushed, and the kid giggled.

 

Victor could easily have forgotten what his father just told him thanks to the cuteness right next to him, but knowing the child was himself wouldn’t leave his brain that easily.

Yulian took a seat, told them to listen, and started talking.

Apparently, there was something in the Nikiforov’s bloodline that allowed time travel. It could happen at any time, and the warning signs (slight unease, a pull in their stomach, sometimes lasting for days), were often missed. Usually, the time traveler would be replaced in his own time with the version of themselves from the past or the future. It could also be a one-way trip without exchange, resulting in the same person existing twice, just like now, with little Victor. 

These pasts and futures were set in different dimensions, so visiting the past and changing things would not affect the visitor’s current timeline. 

The first travel was always forgotten by the visitor, with just emotions lingering. 

There was more to it, Yulian said, and even if himself had been doing it for a long time, he didn’t know much about the logistics of the whole thing. Victor had no idea what to say, but doubt started to bloom:

 

“So, did I time travel too and forget?” he asked, while his young self babbled in Russian, trying his best to kiss Yuuri’s cheek.

“Yes! I’d have no reason to show you your baby self otherwise, unless he stayed for a while. I just thought it meant it was time for you to know. Your mom is very happy by the way, she missed having a kid around. I forgot how much you hated carrots when you were little.”

 

Yuuri, whose eyes kept widening and who just held the kid carefully, seemed thankful when Victor moved closer and put an arm around his shoulders. Both of them waited until Yulian interrupted his silence, that he added for dramatic effect.

 

“So,” he clapped his hand and startled both Victors, “Didn’t you wonder why I was acting familiar with Yuuri, why I sponsored him, why I invited him to the summer camp?”

“You knew I’d fall in love with him?”

“You were already in love! You just didn’t know it was him, but you were pining for years.”

 

Yuuri was very still, and kept quiet.

 

“When you were sixteen,” Yulian continued, “you visited a particular future in which the other you and Yuuri met in 2015. Yuuri bombed the Grand Prix, got drunk, seduced him, asked him to be his coach, then vanished into thin air. The other Victor fell in love at first sight and when the occasion arose, he took a year off and went to Japan to coach him. Just a few days later, you swapped timelines with him. We found an older version of you struggling with slow Internet, and in the meantime, 16-year-old you got stuck in a coaching job, in a foreign country. It lasted for months! You managed to convince Yakov to coach Yuuri and you both moved into his house, and little by little you fell for Yuuri. Before you ask how I know this, I found myself in that very same dimension a week or so after you came back, and everyone explained it to me.”

 

Victor wanted to speak but only a squeak came out (very similar to the noises his child-self made). Yuuri bit his lower lip and asked:

 

“You said emotions remained, so when he came back to his own time, he didn’t remember the older me, but he still remembered his love for him?”

“Yes, which is why I had to do something! But I waited until you were good enough on your blades, or it would have looked suspicious. Vitya is also much more talented on the ice thanks to his trip, because he had just the right persons telling him the right things, and it somehow stuck with him when he came back. I’m so good at this.”

“And you asked Yurio to come stay here so he could babysit little me,” Victor stated, getting another positive answer. Yulian’s odd behavior was finally explained.

“Speaking of Yurio, he was devastated after you left. He had a huge crush on you, you were best friends.”

“This is so weird,” the younger skater sighed.

 

Indeed it was, but now, Victor  _ knew _ . The dream he used to have, with two unknown dancers morphing into skaters… Yurio and Yuuri. Suddenly amazed, he grabbed his small self and a “wow!” escaped his lips, imitated by the kid, and they smiled at each other.

 

“Victor! Don’t touch him, what if the universe collapses or something?” Yuuri whispered urgently, soon reassured by Yulian who told him it wouldn’t happen. Victor was too happy right now to do anything but look at little Victor.

“I’m so cute! Yuuri, I’m cute right? I’m the cutest?”

“You mean he’s the cutest.” Baby Victor poked Yuuri’s cheek and the Japanese skater beamed. “Yes, you are the prettiest, sweetest little thing, I’m going to steal you away.”

“You wound me!” the older Russian gasped. “This morning you said kids were just poop machines!”

“His nose is pink, so he wins,” Yuuri shrugged.

“My nose can be pink too when I’m cold.”

“I suggest you rebuild the pillow fort and have some fun,” Yulian said. “I’ll tell Yurio to join you. Vitya, if you guys want to watch a movie, don’t show him the Neverending Story, remember how you reacted.”

 

He didn’t miss Yuuri’s smirk and immediately whined that the scene with the horse was traumatizing. Of course he remembered. He also had nightmares for weeks because of the wolf, and he was ten when he saw the movie. No way would he inflict this upon the innocent and overexcited angel who was telling him all about his last attempt at skating.

 

“We could watch Labyrinth instead,” he pondered out loud.

“So “baby you” can be subjected to The Bulge?”

“Yuuri!”

“He’s too small for these movies anyway.”

“He’s not. I’m not watching some dumb baby cartoon,” Victor grumbled.

“Then find one that doesn’t have a scary part, or one he already watched. I’m waiting.”

 

He thought for a short while. He only knew of a handful of movies that actually frightened him as a kid and he thought Yuuri was being too soft. He remembered loving the Little Mermaid and he was about small Victor’s age when he saw it. He listed a few safe picks, which Yuuri rejected because himself had been scared, or because the plot was too heavy and the movie not entertaining enough to keep a child’s attention. They were both faced with a small issue regarding recent movies, as neither of them had much time to dedicate to anything other than skating (and fooling around). Going to the cinema was less appealing than cuddling or gaming. Their choice would also need to be in Russian.

Yurio ended up choosing for them, suggesting Shrek or Ice Age, when he finally joined them upstairs. No one told him who the toddler was, but thanks to Eva he was already aware that he would be more or less responsible for him today. It filled him with pride, something Victor could easily see in the way he puffed his chest.

Once they were all sitting comfortably, the youngest kid now in Yurio’s lap, and the movie credits appearing, Victor glanced at Yuuri.

He wasn’t sure what to think, and it would take time to process everything he just learned. One thing stood out, and it might be sappy and ridiculous, but he understood that he and Yuuri were supposed to be together.

The lovesick sigh he let out made Yurio scowl, and he didn’t care, because Yuuri cuddled with him and nuzzled his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toddler Victor won't stay for very long, and the next chapter has a timeskip.
> 
> You might have noticed that I have a new multichapter fic ongoing. This fic is not taking away my focus from this story or the second one. Instead, it helps me write when I lose inspiration for them, so I can go back and forth between all of them.


	20. Epilogue

Yurio’s capricious nature vanished as soon as he met the little kid and he took his new responsibilities very seriously. No one told him who he really was, pretending he was Victor’s cousin and leaving it at that. He wasn’t the only one to be enamoured with him; instead of one (grumpy) babysitter, the child had three and was showered in affection.

 

It was a good thing, too, as little Victor seemed determined to stay in their timeline. Yulian and Eva, happy to have their baby boy with them again while their older boy was off winning medals and becoming a responsible adult (hopefully), both felt like they had been blessed by some higher power. The best part was that, from what Yulian knew about dimension travel, they would remember everything after his departure.

 

Yuuri joined Victor every day at the rink after his own training ended. Little Victor was there often, his older self teaching him how to skate, and sometimes even Yurio joined them. After all, next season, he would become Yakov’s newest pupil.

 

Accepting everything he had learned from Yulian wasn’t easy. Yuuri even found it rather unfair; he didn’t like being manipulated, and Victor’s father had been doing this for years. He also owed him his career, or so he thought, since the face behind his anonymous donations had now been revealed. Not that he wouldn’t have gone far without him, if he believed what his other self achieved in a parallel timeline. This revelation boosted his confidence.

 

He might even have been slightly jealous of himself, of the Yuuri _his_ Vitya fell in love with years ago, but this feeling quickly vanished. Victor was just so delighted after the revelation, and so eager to tell everyone about them being soulmates (a term even Yuuri found ridiculous), that he just couldn’t hold it against him.

Victor was his, and his only. If he wanted to label them as soulmates, so be it. Soon, everyone would know it.

 

Little Victor left after the Grand Prix Final, turning the banquet into a bittersweet occasion. They all knew he went back to his parents anyway and would grow up happy and cherished, but his adult self wept on Yuuri’s shoulder while Yurio, informed after Eva called his grandfather, ripped two pillows to shreds. Thankfully, unlike his older self from the timeline Victor visited years earlier, he had no crush to get over, and he had an easier time letting go.

 

Yuuri, who won bronze, chose to kill two birds with one stone, moving in with Victor to celebrate their respective medals and, at the same time, allowing himself to be with him while he grieved for his lost baby self. The Japanese skater did cry, of course, but nowhere near as long as his boyfriend, who always had a flair for drama. There wasn’t much to be sad about, they’d miss him dearly, but he was still the same person as Victor, only much younger, it wasn’t like he ceased to exist.

 

To make him smile again, Yuuri offered himself to Victor fully a few days after the competition, without any interruption from unsuspecting cockblockers, canine or human.

 

In the end, all was well.

 

A few years later, Yuuri and Xavier parted ways with their coach, who turned his attention to pair skating. Xavier left Russia and the skating world, staying in contact with Yuuri and offering him a place to stay if he ever visited Brittany. The Japanese, now proud owner of an Olympic silver medal, started training with Yakov.

 

Victor managed to land a quad axel when he was showing off for his beloved, but when he did it again at Worlds, he hurt his knee and begrudgingly agreed to take a break. Yuuri took this opportunity to shatter every other skater’s hopes of grabbing the gold.

 

During his year-long break, the Russian discovered how much he loved choreographing routines for others. The only shadow in his life vanished now that he could stop wondering what to do after his retirement. He came back to the ice, still the skating monster everyone loved, and was only beaten once. Yuuri won gold that day, and the lovebirds got engaged the very next morning in front of a bakery. It wasn’t as romantic as it could have been, and certainly not as incredible as Yuuri had planned, but the box with the ring fell from his pocket and when he retrieved it, Victor thought he was proposing.

 

It made the whole scene more special than the expensive dinner Yuuri had initially chosen to pop the question.

 

Sometimes, Victor thought he heard the distant voices of those he now knew were themselves from another dimension. They became clearer as he grew older, as did his dreams. He now clearly saw his two Yuris skating and dancing in a swirling black mist when he closed his eyes.

 

And when he came back from another trip to the future, he managed to remember what his much older self said. He didn’t recall if he still had hair, all he knew was that this version of himself was still healthy and well on his way to his 100th birthday, happily married to a Yuuri who, to his dismay, tried to convince him that his wheelchair was not a racing vehicle. This Yuuri cooked the best katsudon.

 

The words resonated within him when, back in his own time, he and Yuuri went to see Swan Lake. Yurio, who for some unfathomable reason, in this timeline only, decided to quit skating, shone on the stage, graceful and powerful. At that moment, Victor heard his own voice whisper about soulmates. The blond young man who danced under the hot spotlights of a famous stage would forever be tied to him, as a platonic part of his heart.

 

With a grin, Victor chose to call him his angry son.

 

In a house far from the city center, Yulian Nikiforov stared at the wedding invitation, congratulating himself on a job well done.

 

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHAHAHAHaa....
> 
> I am SO SORRY. 
> 
> Honestly. I got so busy, then lost inspiration, then fell back (hard) into the HP fandom (blame the fic "A Year Like None Other" for that). And the fact that this story was left unfinished kept nagging me, so today I finally decided to give you guys some closure.
> 
> Obviously this is not how I wanted to end it. I had so many other ideas, and I definitely didn't want to brush over the boys first time, but I figured it would be best to end it this way rather than let the story rot for many more months. Who knows when I would have written the rest of it otherwise.
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed this story, and thanks for sticking with me until now!

**Author's Note:**

>  ** _Find me here:_**  
>  Twitter: [@FuzzyJawa](https://twitter.com/FuzzyJawa)  
> Tumblr: [vivi1138](http://vivi1138.tumblr.com/) (main)/ [FluffySnowyEgret](http://fluffysnowyegret.tumblr.com/) (Yuri on Ice-centric)(I reblog stuff, I don't really post, Twitter is more active)  
> My completed multi chapters YOI fic: [Eyes Like Frozen Water](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8761624/chapters/20082817)  
> Part 1 of this story(completed): [Tiger Stripes and Smartphones](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9452684/chapters/21385880)


End file.
